About The Price of Sanctuary
Accustomed to a life of privilege, Shelby Cervosier new finds herself running for her life. Accused of killing an American Immigration agent, Shelby has undertaken a mission on behalf of a secretive American espionage agency in exchange for a promise of legal amnesty and political asylum in America. Now, however, the agent who coerced her into accepting the assignment wants her dead to cover up the bungled mission. Two hit men compete for the bounty that has been placed on her head.
Shelby and her younger sister flee into America’s heartland in search of a safe haven. They find only fear and danger, however, when they are captured by one of the assassins, Hank.
Prepared to do whatever it takes to keep her sister safe, Shelby cooperates with her capturer. Deciding that his feelings for them are more important than bounty money, Hank takes the sisters under his wing and secrets then away to his hideout: a farm in a remote corner of Colorado. They become a part of his extended family; they have finally found sanctuary.
Their safe new world is shattered when the second hit man, a relentless psychopath, captures Shelby’s little sister and uses her to lure Shelby and her lover into a middle-of-the-night showdown on an isolated Rocky Mountain battleground.
The house had grown quiet except for the occasional creak of aging timbers reacting to changes in humidity and temperature. After watching a moonbeam stab through a window and creep over the floor, Shelby stared at the ceiling and asked herself why she always waited for events to overtake her. Why couldn’t she do what Hank had suggested during their road trip? In Las Vegas he had urged her to reach out to life, to squeeze it, make it respond. “Grab life by the scruff and shake it,” he’d said. But he wouldn’t reach out to her any more than he already had. The next move was up to her.
She threw back the bedcovers and swung her feet onto the chilly floor. If she thought about it, she would crawl back into bed, so she refused to think. Instead she reached under her gown to slip off her panties and tiptoed across the hall to his bedroom.
He lay on his back, stretched full-length under the covers. “Are you all right?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Standing in his doorway, she said, “I’m . . . yes, I’m okay.”
“Are you chilly? Need more cover?”
“I’m lonely. May I get in with you?”
He shifted to the side, fluffed a pillow for her, and threw back the covers. She recognized the gesture as the one she had used in Las Vegas when inviting him to share Pearl’s guest bed. Feeling light-headed, she pulled the door shut and climbed in with him.
He lay on his side, watching her. “You sure everything’s all right?”
“I don’t know. I feel . . .” She twisted to face him. “I thought you might . . . that we . . .” Why couldn’t she finish a sentence? She concentrated on regulating her breathing.
He twisted onto his back again and extended an arm. “Come here.”
About the Author
Working with traveling carnivals and itinerant farm labor gangs during his teen and early adult years took Gaylon Greer up, down, and across the United States and introduced him to a plethora of colorful individuals who serve as models for his fictional characters. A return to school in pursuit of a high school diploma while serving in the Air Force led to three university degrees, including a Ph.D. in economics, and a stint as a university professor. After publishing several books on real estate and personal financial planning, as well as lecturing on these subjects to nationwide audiences, he shifted his energy to writing fiction. Gaylon lives near Austin, Texas.
A day with me behind the scenes…
I’ll share recent events that have changed my life as a new writer. My fulltime job as an environmental scientist came to a temporary end midyear 2013 after several federal contracts with my company weren’t renewed. Instead of viewing this as a professional and financial tragedy, I chose to see it as a golden opportunity to write fulltime. Not only was Book II of the Blind Series (Blind Mercy) scheduled for release already in February 2014, Book III, Blind Redemption, needed immediate attention.
With so much free time on my hands, I knew I could get some serious work done.
A day with me behind the scenes reminds me of a mad scientist in a laboratory—I can’t stop mixing potions or in this case, writing. I wake up, say good morning to my husband as he leaves for work, grab a cup of tea, and turn on my computer. Nothing glamorous. I spend the first hour checking emails, Facebook, and Twitter. Next, I may stop by a friend’s blog or two. Beyond that, it’s all about writing and editing. Of course I take breaks in-between to play with my cats and dogs, make a few phone calls, and go for walks. But on average, I put in 12 hours a day. And it’s worth it because…
I completed the first installment (65,000 words) of my new contemporary series in two weeks. And Book IV of the Blind Series, Blind Fury, is in production. What amazes me the most, is how effectively I’ve adapted to my lifestyle change. And I think that’s a positive message for any writer at any level of experience. Life changes constantly. But don’t let it alter or diminish your craft. Keep writing. And always aim for the stars.
About Blind Mercy
The Sigurdsson family legacy continues…
A woman who prayed for a hero…
Orphaned at a young age, Rachelle Fiennes prayed for a hero to rescue her from her tragic life in England. When her only kinsman goes missing after the Battle of Stamford Bridge, Rachelle braves the aftermath of the battlefield to find him.
A man who lost everything…
Damned by the gods for surviving the bloodiest defeat in Norse history, Jarl Tyr Sigurdsson is still determined to get home. Hiding until nightfall so he can escape to his ship, his dangerous endeavor is disrupted when he’s accidently discovered by a beautiful Saxon.
Brought together by war, Rachelle and Tyr face many obstacles. Can sworn enemies find peace through love, or will fate be cruel?
Rachelle tried to wiggle out of her bonds. He didn’t try to stop her. Why did Prince Edwin want to see her again? The Norse liked English slaves. “I’m shocked you’d sell a Christian into servitude.” She expected the worst from him.
She rolled her eyes.
“Marriage can hardly be considered slavery.”
Panic gripped her heart. Marriage? Oh my God. “Maybe not for a man,” she countered tartly.
“You’re to be wed to a prince. I hardly think you’ll be expected to work your fingers to the bone, unless you view bedding your husband as an unpleasant task.” He grinned lecherously. “Some women never learn to enjoy bedsport.” He caressed her cheek. “Somehow, I think you will.”
She jerked away. “Don’t do this, I beg you.”
“Milady,” he replied. “Men conduct this sort or business every day. Without a proper guardian, someone needed to act on your behalf. It’s a fine match. You’ve done your duty. Rose above your unfortunate circumstances and secured a man most women would trip over their skirts to get to. Prince Edwin may be a bastard in the Biblical sense, but he’s rich and comes from a reputable family. Celebrate your good fortune. I could have shipped you to a place where women are expected to perform the marital act without the benefit of nuptials.”
Her hands burned to slap him. He’d done this with the intent to harm her. From the moment she stepped foot on Tyr’s ship, this man had seethed with contempt. She swallowed thickly. “Why?”
His startling gaze pierced her. “I hate Tyr. And everything about you reminds me of the home I dearly miss. I don’t need a constant reminder of things I cannot have.”
His confession took her by surprise. “I thought you despised Scotland.”
“I’ve only implied it to keep my enemies confused.”
What kind of man denied his own heart? A man without a home was likely the most wretched creature on earth. Beholden to no one, he’d do as he pleased. “Why do you stay?”
“There’s opportunity for me here.”
“Tyr will notice I’m gone.”
“I suspect he’ll do more than that,” he added. “He might start a bloody war.”
About the Author
Violetta Rand holds a bachelor’s degree in Environmental Policy and a master’s degree in Environmental Management. Serving as an environmental scientist in the state of Alaska for over seven years, she enjoys the privilege of traveling to remote places few people have the opportunity to see.
Violetta has been “in love” with writing since childhood. Struck with an entrepreneurial spirit at a young age, at five, she wrote short stories illustrated by her best friend and sold them in her neighborhood. The only thing she loves more than writing is her wonderful relationship with her husband, Jeff. She enjoys outdoor activities, reading whatever she can get her hands on, music, and losing herself in the ancient worlds she enjoys bringing to life in the pages of her stories.
Emma will be awarding a Shannon’s Law Launch Day Swag Bag to one randomly drawn commenter during the tour and a $30 Amazon voucher will be awarded to one randomly drawn commenter during the tour. Also, a print copy of Shannon’s Law will be awarded to three (3) randomly drawn commenters and a digital copy of Shannon’s Law will be awarded to five (5) randomly drawn commenter during the tour. ALL ENTRANTS get emailed Cops Cuisine, a digital cookery book of recipes (including photos!) for meals/food eaten in Shannon’s Law. Click here for the Rafflecopter. Click on the banner above to follow the tour and increase your chances of winning.
About Shannon’s Law
Wild child inner city cop Shannon Aguerri walks a dangerous line between her methods and justice. When the bosses lose their nerve, after yet another maverick mission, she is transferred to green pastures to play out the role of a routine village cop. When she encounters signs of people and drug trafficking she homes in on serious millionaire criminals. As a loner she has attracted men but nothing has stuck. When she meets Spencer, the hunky and widowed Earl of Bloxington, there is an immediate rapport between them. Their social differences mean nothing to their passion and need. Already in the mix is an upper class female rival – who has long plotted her way into the Earl’s bed. The jealousy is an evil shade of green and the anger is a violent scarlet. Often inhibited by a sense of duty and honour, Spencer is slow to reveal his feelings. When Shannon confronts him with the need to choose between her word and that of her rival, he does not immediately support her. All the same, when they are forced together to carry out a desperate rescue mission, their love is stronger than everything ranged against them.
Author’s note: This book is quite ‘strongly flavoured’ and features uninhibited, but straightforward steamy sexual scenes between consenting adults and true-to-life street language that would occur in high-stress situations.
Available for Pre-order
About the Author
Emma Calin was born in London in 1962. She currently lives in France and the UK. She has been writing since childhood and has won numerous local, national and international prizes for poetry and short stories.
Other Works by Emma Calin
Knockout! is the first of the “Passion Patrol Series” a stand-alone love story set against a backdrop of international gambling corruption and deception. Interpol cop Anna Leyton finds herself torn between love and duty when her professional and private life intersects. This book is now available in both paperback and Kindle formats.
The Love in a Hopeless Place Collection is a bargain anthology of 5 short stories and novelettes, available in paperback and digital formats.
Sub-Prime is a prize-winning hard hitting short story about courage, exploitation and love. It is a raw and brutal exposé of life at the bottom in the aftermath of recession.
The Chosen is also a short story, set in modern times where working people struggle to keep their dreams alive. A world where the promise of love motivates desperate measures.
Escape To Love is a ‘novelette’ (longer than a short story but shorter than a novella), a gritty urban romance with suspense and mystery but a love story at it’s core.
Angela is a short story about a late-night taxi journey.
Love in a Hopeless Place is a novelette about a middle-aged woman striving to find her true identity.
The author will be awarding a $25 Amazon GC to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour. Click on the banner above to follow the tour and increase your chances of winning. Click here for the Rafflecopter.
About Bob at the Lake
Take a crabby woman of a certain age, move her to the wintry shores of a New York lake, and then throw in a martini-loving ghost from 1920s Manhattan. Last, stir in the good-looking grape grower who lives up the hill. Now there’s a recipe for a potent screwball cocktail!
That’s Bob. He’s my ghost. Well, not my ghost since I’m sitting here writing, but the ghost who lives with me. Other women probably get muscleman ghosts who can fix plumbing and take out the garbage, or romantic ghosts who set their hearts a-flutter. Me, I get a ghost who’s middle-aged, plump, and who likes to lounge around the house in a silk smoking jacket from the nineteen-thirties. Not exactly the kind of ghost I’d ever imagined I’d get. I will admit, though, that Bob does make an amazing martini. A martini that, in fact, hits you like a brick of gold.
I found, unfortunately, the longer Bob lived at my place, the more I appreciated his skill with martinis. Which was probably not a great thing for my liver, or my relationships with my sisters, but what the heck.
Remember the Great Recession? According to the newspapers, some consumers seem to be wiping it from their memories, but it had a big impact on a lot of people, including me. That economy hurt. Lost jobs, lost houses, lost marriages, lost hopes—lives turned upside down in the flutter of a pink slip. People scrambling just to keep from drowning—couch surfing, penny pinching, living newly frugal lives
Like millions of others, the economy sucked me into its undertow…
About the Author
Roz Murphy is the pseudonym of a shy, retiring writer who doesn’t want her neighbors to know how nutty she really is. Brooklyn-born and Jersey-bred, Roz now lives on the misty shore of one of New York’s beautiful Finger Lakes. Prior to that, her business writing career took her to many locations, including Manhattan, where she worked for a number of years. As a freelance and corporate writer, Roz won several national and international writing and communications awards.
Now Roz is pursuing her first love—fiction. She’s writing the ‘Bob’ books, the humorous chronicle of a crabby ‘woman of a certain age’ who moves to the wintry shores of a New York lake—and gets a ghost. And not just any ghost, mind you. Bob’s a plump, middle-aged ghost from 1920s Manhattan who swans around in a silk smoking jacket and drinks far too many martinis. Stir the good-looking grape grower who lives up the hill into this mix and you get a pretty potent screwball cocktail!
When she’s not reading, writing, hill-walking, staring mindlessly out the window at the lake or piling rocks onto her ever-diminishing lakefront, you can usually find Roz hanging out with her family, travelling, or exploring the amazing wines and wineries of the Finger Lakes.
‘Bob at the Lake’ is exclusively available as a Kindle download from Amazon. Please join Roz Murphy Author on FaceBook for updates on the many adventures of Roz, David—and Bob.
Lesley will be awarding print copies of “Sky’s End” to ten randomly drawn commenters, and a grand prize of one $50 Amazon gift card to a randomly drawn winner during the tour. Click here for the Rafflecopter. Click on the banner above to follow the tour and increase your chances of winning.
Interview with Lesley Young, debut author of Sky’s End: Book One in the Cassiel Winters Series
Susana: What inspired you to start writing?
Lesley: I’m a journalist so I write for a living. I never dreamed of writing fiction until a few years ago, after I read Hunger Games. I loved the first-person present tense voice and thought, ‘I could do this.’
Susana: What advice would you give to writers just starting out?
Lesley: I say the same thing over and over. Live it. Feel it. Be it. If your story makes you laugh, makes you cry, keeps you up at night, makes your heart race, it will have the same impact on others.
Susana: What comes first: the plot or the characters?
Lesley: Hm, this is a chicken-egg question for me. I was going to say characters, specifically a strong hero or love interest, but then I realized he doesn’t exist outside of some sense of plot (thriller, mystery etc).
Susana: Describe the “perfect hero.”
Lesley: Someone who is flawed, and therefore redeemable. Someone who is unpredictable, and by that I mean not formula and thus more real—as in could truly exist. Someone who is mysterious. I mean is there anything more exciting finding out why he’s so dark, stormy and brooding?
Susana: Tell us something about your newest release that is NOT in the blurb.
Susana: What is your work schedule like when writing?
Lesley: Insane. When I am busy with my day-job writing, and fiction I can end up writing for 10 or 12 hours a day. I like to think this makes a better writer but probably just means I spend a lot on massages.
Susana: What did you want to be when you grew up?
Lesley: A neuroscientist. Ha! Then a foreign diplomat. Then a journalist. Now, it’s a novelist. And no, I have not grown up!
Susana: Do you have a favorite quote or saying?
Lesley: Yeah, and I tell myself this all of the time (to no avail). Don’t take yourself so seriously, cuz no one else does.
Susana: Is there a writer you idolize? If so, who?
Lesley: Kresley Cole. Is she even human? Holy machine. She puts out two incredibly terrific genre novels a year. Wow.
Susana: Thank you so much for coming today, Lesley!
Lesley: Thanks for the opportunity to visit your Parlour, Susana!
About Sky’s End
A secret she must never share. A secret that two warring species are determined to control. A universe’s future at stake.
Twenty-year-old Cassiel Winters joins Earth’s new space academy in hopes of finding her brother, one of Command’s top pilots and her only family, who’s been reported MIA. But she quickly realizes she may not be cut out for life in space, where female cadets are outnumbered, competition’s fierce, and she’s already failed her hand-to-hand combat test once.
When Cassiel’s manipulated into a perilous mission, she encounters a warrior species bred to protect the universe from an even greater threat. And she learns that her secret visions are at the heart of it all. Now Cassiel must fight to control her own destiny and race to save her brother—even if it means pretending to be the pawn of Prime Or’ic, the cold-as-steel Thell’eon leader. Even if it means risking her life, facing hard truths, and making the ultimate sacrifice.
“You would understand us,” Prime Or’ic beseeches me, hands out. He places them on the downcore, searching the room, until he spots what he’s looking for. He returns with a stool and sits on it, making him eye level with me. A first. “Our beliefs,” he starts and stops. I’ve never seen him this . . . uncertain. “Kirs spend a lifetime training and fighting Aeon. We strive to achieve a perfect Horde, knowing the likelihood is incredibly small. And still we prevail. To get the chance to have, to fight with a sift,” he corrects himself, “with you, is . . . sacred. Once given, it is understood to be a right that is earned.
He rolls his eyes, frustrated. Ah, that’s more familiar. When he focuses back on me, his eyes are different. Earnest, I think.
“Think of how you ‘fell’ into our path. ESE sent you to our ship! You! When you took my beacon portal, then I knew for certain. It was our destiny to have a sift. You belong to us!”
His vehemence scares me more than the simple deduction. Those things all happened, but not so that I could be his sift. Not even so I could help ESE get the sift (isn’t that ironic?). But so that I could save my brother Daz! I’m certain of this. Being their sift is not my destiny. And even if I believed in that crap, I would never belong to them. Or anyone.
“I’m a human being, Or’ic!”
“I know, I know,” he says, touching my hand with his.
I pull away. I don’t like they way he’s looking at me. Not at all. He doesn’t understand that I wasn’t speaking literally. I meant to say that I’m not an object. But he continues, oblivious to his mistake
About the Author
Journalist Lesley Young never thought she would delve into the world of writing fiction, but when she sat down for the first time to put pen to paper, ideas for what would become her first novel just poured out naturally. Young’s first book, Sky’s End, is a multi-genre tale that showcases her unique style of weaving romance, action and wit into one page-burning story.
Young was born in Edmonton, Alberta in Canada. She holds an arts degree from the University of Alberta and a journalism degree from the University of Victoria.
Young now lives in Loretto, Ontario where she works as a journalist, freelance writer and editor for health, décor and business magazines. Since 2008, Young has written more than 300 articles for print and online media including Profit, Toronto Life, MSN Green, and Elle Canada among others. She is a regular contributor to Reader’s Digest, Best Health, Canadian Living and House and Home Magazine.
Young has won three gold honors for feature stories from the National Business Magazine Awards and another top media award from the Canadian Dermatology Association.
Soul Mate Publishing released Sky’s End on July 15 in paperback and e-book and since its launch, it has remained an Amazon Best Seller. The novel is Young’s first installment in a series about Cassiel Winters, a futuristic heroine, and her outer space escapades.
One randomly chosen commenter will win a $50 Amazon/BN.com gift card. Click here for the Rafflecopter. Click on the banner above to follow the tour and increase your chances of winning.
About Banished Love
Clarissa Sullivan dreams for more from life than sipping tepid tea in stifling parlors in Victorian Boston. She defies her family’s wishes, continuing to teach poor immigrant children in Boston’s West End, finding a much-needed purpose to her life.
As a suffragette, Clarissa is considered a firebrand radical no man would desire. For why should women want the vote when men have sheltered women from the distasteful aspects of politics and law?
When love blossoms between Clarissa and Gabriel McLeod, a struggling cabinetmaker, her family objects. Clarissa’s love and determination will be tested as she faces class prejudices, manipulative family members and social convention in order to live the life she desires with the man she loves.
Will she succeed? Or will she yield to expectations?
Banished Love follows Clarissa Sullivan on her journey of self-discovery as she learns what she cannot live without.
“A schoolgirl’s idealism,” she snapped. “Nothing to be acted on.”
Mrs. Chickering cleared her throat, as though to remind Mrs. Smythe she remained present. “I think it takes a tremendous strength of character to have beliefs and then actually act on them,” she said with her own fervor. “I would hate for women to lock away their desires for a better world once they leave school or marry. They, as women, have lives, have hopes and dreams for the future, independent of what a man might want.”
“How dare you come into my house and tell me that what I have is not sufficient?” Mrs. Smythe gasped.
“I am saying no such thing, Mrs. Sullivan,” Mrs. Chickering replied. “I believe you need to understand that your stepdaughter has beliefs and aspirations that are different from yours.”
“Aspirations that include the vote?” Mrs. Smythe scoffed. “Men have voted in the past, they will continue to vote, and I have no desire of it. I feel as my husband does on all things to do with politics, so it would only be giving the same politician two votes rather than one. There’s no purpose to women having the vote.” Her eyes flashed, true enmity in their depths as she glared at Mrs. Chickering. “And didn’t we women of Massachusetts show you suffragettes we didn’t want the vote in’95? No one voted for women to become enfranchised then, and they won’t now.” She sighed loudly, as though trying to calm herself.
“An aspiration for independence?” Mrs. Smythe continued, unable to stop speaking. “Are you telling me that someday it should be lauded, hoped for, that young women become independent and have no need for marriage? No need for children? How could that ever be a hoped-for future? You and your group want too much for women. Women should focus on their home, on creating a moral, upstanding environment in which to raise children. She will want for nothing if she has such a home,” Mrs. Smythe argued.
“So I suppose women should remain tied to the kitchen stove with children at their ankles, and a husband who might, or might not, come home with a paycheck as their only recourse?” Mrs. Chickering countered. “Relying on the benevolence of men to write laws and enforce them without women having any involvement in the legislative process? Sitting at home knitting, hoping that men will ensure that our rights are protected? That is all you envision for women? Nothing more?”
“It has been enough for generations. I do not know why it should need to change now,” Mrs. Smythe snapped, banging down her teacup with such force I thought she might crack it.
“Was that enough for you in your first marriage, Mrs. Sullivan?” Mrs. Chickering asked, pinning her with an intense gaze.
About the Author
Ramona Flightner is a native of Missoula, Montana. After graduating from Tufts University with a B.A. in Spanish, she earned a Masters degree in Spanish Literature from the University of Montana. Her Master’s thesis, Chilean Testimonial Literature: the collective suffering of a people, highlighted her continued interest in the stories of those who were at risk of being forgotten or silenced.
She studied nursing at the University of Pennsylvania and graduated with a Master’s in Nursing as a Family Nurse Practitioner. She has worked for ten years as a family nurse practitioner providing care to the poor and under insured at two community health centers, first in Wilmington, Delaware and now in Boston, Massachusetts.
An avid reader, she began writing three years ago. She enjoys the demands of research and relishes the small discoveries that give historical detail to her books.
Ramona is an avid flyfisher and hiker who enjoys nothing better than spending a day on a remote Montana river, far from a city. She enjoys research, travel, storytelling, learning about new cultures and discovering new ways of looking at the world. Though she resides in Boston, Massachusetts, Ramona remains a Montanan at heart.
Her dreams are to see the plains of East Africa, marvel at the wonder of Petra in Jordan, soak in the seas of the South Pacific, and to continue to spend as much time as possible with her family.
Banished Love is her first novel and is the first in the forthcoming Banished Saga.
by Eva Scott
I’ve often wondered how I would fare if I were suddenly transported back in time to Ancient Rome. I like to think of myself as an independent sort of woman, and I’m sure you think of yourself the same way. But women in Rome were not independent, not in the slightest. A woman “belonged” to her father even after she married. The only way a woman could gain her independence was by having children. Once she’d had four living children she was entitled to a modicum of financial independence. Of course she had to survive childbirth which was no mean feat!
Interestingly my heroines are not Roman. They are from other parts of the ancient world – Sarmatia and the great nation of the Hun. Both these cultures gave women the right to fight alongside their men and to a certain level of equality Roman women did not enjoy. Not that Sarmatian and Hun women were equal in status to their men, not at all, but they did have more freedom and opportunity than Roman women. I think I like to see how these independent women tackle patriarchal Rome and I wonder if I’d do the same.
Klara, the heroine in Barbarian Bride, is the daughter of a Hun chief. Accustomed to riding on the grass plains and wielding a weapon she is unprepared to fall in love with a Roman – even if he is unconventional – and living in a city and being a dutiful Roman-style wife is just not on her agenda. Nor is fighting for her life in the Coliseum although her upbringing does give her the skills and the desire to win her freedom, or die trying.
If you read The Last Gladiatrix (the first book in the Romancing The Romans series) you may remember Klara. We meet her briefly when she befriends Xanthe and gives her some valuable advice about surviving the Romans. Barbarian Bride is Klara’s story; how she came to Rome and how she fares once there. If you like your heroine’s brave, feisty and funny and your hero bad-boy then this book is for you!
About Barbarian Bride
On the bloody ground of the Colosseum, she fights to save her life. In the treacherous boxes above, he fights to save their love.
Though Klara didn’t love the man who was to be her husband, she didn’t want him murdered, and she vows to track down the man who committed the crime. Sickened that she’d been attracted to the mysterious Roman, Klara tracks Lucius Aurelius to the fringes of the Roman Empire, only to find that they’ve both been trapped in a clever plot to overthrow Klara’s father, the Chief of the Huns.
Klara is separated from Lucius, captured by slavers and sold to a gladiator school. She is the only one who can save herself, by fighting for her freedom. Lucius can ensure her battle is easier, but only by sacrificing himself. How much is he willing to give up for the fiery woman he’s come to love?
Settling back, Klara surveyed the room for the candidate most likely to know Lucius Aurelius. With so many unwashed, bearded rascals to choose from it was hard to pick. Finally her gaze alighted on a burly old man whose eyes reminded her of Lucius. Abandoning the revolting beer she made her way cautiously to where the man sat alone. He was intent on a dish of stew and didn’t notice her approach. Klara stood before him, awkward in her uncertainty of what to do next.
She cleared her throat. The man shovelled another spoonful of stew in his mouth and did not look up. She tried again, a little louder this time, and still the man ignored her. Sliding her knife from its sheath Klara slammed the point down into the table where it quivered menacingly. The spoon stopped half way to the old man’s mouth. He looked up under busy eyebrows and regarded her for a long moment before the spoon continued its journey. Chewing slowly he simply sat and looked at her.
Klara put her hands on her hips. Now she had the man’s attention starting a conversation about Lucius seemed even harder than she thought it would be. The man lowered his gaze, scooping up another spoonful of stew, and she found herself dismissed.
“Hey!” she slammed both her hand down on the table. “I want to talk to you.”
“So talk.” The fact he didn’t bother to look up infuriated Klara. The man has no manners— and they call Hun barbarians.
“I’m looking for a man.”
He looked up then. “Really?” Pushing the bowl away he leaned back in his chair, letting his eyes roam over the curves of her body. “I’d be happy to oblige.”
Klara swept the empty bowl off the table with the back of her hand. It clattered on the floor and rolled under the table. Her chest heaved with suppressed anger.
“Might I suggest you would do better with men if you tempered your aggression? So unattractive in a woman.”
Klara wrenched the knife out of the table and held it towards the man. “Do you know a man named Lucius Aurelius?” she hissed.
The old man’s bushy eyebrows shot up and disappeared into his hairline. “Lucius? How on earth do you know Lucius?” He narrowed his blue eyes and leaned forward, his hand shot out grabbing her wrist. “Who are you?”
She tried to reclaim her hand but the man was too strong. Cleverly he’d grabbed her hand holding the knife so there was very little point struggling. She raised her chin and said, “I am Klara…”
About the Author
Eva lives on the Sunshine Coast, in Queensland Australia in the town which brought the world the Bee Gees. When she’s not writing romance you can find her out on the water kayaking, fishing or swimming. When on dry land it’s all about the shoes and the coffee (and old Bee Gees records).
Daisy will be awarding a $20 gift card to Amazon or Barnes and Noble to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour. Click on the banner to follow the tour and increase your chances of winning!
About After the Rain
They’re going to need a bigger tent.
Henri’s list of bad exes is as long as his arm, but nothing prepared him for his latest, heart-stomping breakup. He thought he couldn’t feel more abandoned, until his ride for a group camping trip bails, leaving him stuck driving for hours with a guy who is absolutely not his type.
After breaking up with his girlfriend of five years, firefighter Logan is working up the nerve to explore his interest in men. He knows he’s gay. He just hasn’t had the guts to do anything about it…until now.
Henri’s big-city attitude and tight jeans push every last one of Logan’s buttons, and when he and Henri have to share a tent, Logan is thrilled. He should have realized Pacific Northwest weather would get wet—forcing them to strip naked. Though the steam between them is thicker than coastal fog, Henri’s not sure he can let himself fall for another man. Not even the guy who finally treats him right.
Warning: Contains bad ex-boyfriends, even worse weather, and more than your average amount of sex in a tent. May not be suitable for those with germ phobias, outdoor aversions or fear of damp shoes.
Logan pulled off his helmet, and Henri did the same. There was a moment when their eyes met, Logan grinning and Henri grinning right back. Henri realized Logan was going to kiss him a split second before it happened.
Henri jerked to get out of the way before their lips touched, and though Logan’s kiss landed at Henri’s hairline, a thrill of panic still ran through him. No way. Herpes! Logan couldn’t kiss him, and Henri definitely couldn’t kiss Logan back. Plenty of other guys would have taken the risk—especially if it was just a kiss—but Henri couldn’t.
“Oh.” Logan froze, his breath still in Henri’s hair. Slowly, he stepped back. “I’m sorry.”
“No. It’s fine.” Henri held his hands palms up, wishing he could explain in a few words, but the guys on the ridge above were already calling to them, hollering that it was time for lunch.
“I didn’t mean…” Logan turned away, hiding his expression. “I just mean it’s no big deal.” Shoulders curled forward, Logan headed up the stairs.
“Logan,” Henri called after him. He hated this. If things were different, he would have been on Logan from the second he saw what he was hiding under his shirt. He would have kissed him and even given his dick a squeeze for good measure. Now he’d be stuck with half explanations all weekend. “Wait up.”
About the Author
Birkenstock-wearing glamour girl and mother of two by immaculate conception, Daisy Harris still isn’t sure if she writes erotica. Her romances start out innocently enough. However, her characters behave like complete sluts. Much to Miss Harris’s dismay the sex tends to get completely out of hand.
She writes about fantastical creatures and about young men getting their freak on, and she’s never missed an episode of The Walking Dead.
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All Haven Jameson ever wanted was to own a little piece of paradise. Now, she does, having established a successful luxury spa in St. Augustine, Florida. But when the property next door is sold to a mega developer and his pro-golf celebrity brother who design trendy, bustling playgrounds for the rich and famous, she fears her dream could slip away. Confronted by her late husband’s infidelity, Haven learns everything she believed about her marriage was a lie; so she finally sets aside her grief and opens her heart to loving the widowed pro-golfer who is her biggest professional competition. In the end, Haven discovers that living a safe, loveless life is far worse than embracing passion and taking a chance on a man who’s vowed never to love again. And that, sometimes, no matter how high the risk, the best paradise of all can be found inside our own hearts.
All Haven Jameson knew for sure was that she loved this place and she wouldn’t let someone come in and steal her business away by building a junk yard or a high-rise hotel-casino next door or adding a boardwalk with a carnival.
Haven would fight for every granule of sand on that beach to keep that from happening. “I’ll go visit Imogen this afternoon. See what I can do to influence her decision. You know I’m irresistible when I choose to be.”
Sally crossed the room. “Honey, don’t I just know it. The way men have always swarmed around you your entire life. Blondes do have more fun. And when I look up the definition of irresistible on Wikipedia, I see your picture. But, we all know you’re more than a pretty face. All anyone has to do is look at Essence to see you’re also a brilliant businesswoman. You’ve created something really special here, Haven.”
Haven nodded in silent agreement.
From the doorway, Sally gave Haven a considering look. “We’ve been through a lot together over the years. Your determination and sheer stubbornness is part of your success. So if anyone can persuade Madam Carmichael to change her mind, it’s you, my dear.”
Haven rolled her eyes. “All right. Go, you. There are clients to take care of.” She glanced down at the clipboard. “So this one’s a pro golfer? Ugh.”
“Yepper.” Sally turned, one hand on the doorframe, then looked back at her, a sly assessing expression on her face. “It’ll expand your horizons.”
“Boring is more like it. If you had to give me an athlete, why couldn’t you give me that major league baseball player last week? He was hot, and seriously sweet.”
Sally chuckled. “You’d eat sweet, darling. Besides, sweet won’t stick or make you forget Miles.”
“Harrumph.” Haven scowled at Sally. “What about the oil tycoon who blew in on Wednesday. I liked him.”
“Again, he was a player. And you don’t play. He’d never stand two minutes against you. You’d call him out like you were reading his moves from an official playbook. No hesitation. Then we’d lose a wealthy, satisfied customer. Although, I gotta say he was a sizzler.” Sally groaned. “And possessed the body of a tricked-out celebrity.”
They both sighed.
Haven held the clipboard to her chest. “I love the scenery at Essence.”
“Yeah, me, too,” Sally said dreamily. “Believe me, Pace Daniels is anything but boring or sweet. Don’t let the golfer moniker fool you. Give him a chance. I think he’s interesting. You’ll see. And you weren’t ready for the Hawks’ pitcher last week or the oil magnate from Texas.” She smiled. “But I think you’re ready now.” With those ominous words, Sally disappeared.
About the Author
Mackenzie Lucas is a lover of story in any form. She’s an avid reader of genre fiction, she writes contemporary and paranormal romance, and she listens to an eclectic mix of music that spans from pop/rock to country to gospel. She loves a good story whether it’s an erotic short, a full-length romance novel, or the narrative slice-of-life found in country music. In any story, emotional integrity and authenticity are most important to her as well as a big dose of romping hot sexual tension. She enjoys smart-mouthed, sexy heroines, hunky alpha heroes who know how to take care of their women, and plot twists that surprise her, but most of all, she just wants to experience a satisfying emotional arc of a character falling in love and finding what he or she needs most in life.
Mac is a small-town country girl with a world-traveler’s soul. She grew up in the Allegheny Mountains of Pennsylvania and she’s lived in Dublin, Ireland, within spitting distance of New York City in Long Island, and now in the Washington, D.C. area. She obtained her undergraduate degree in English Literature from Dickinson College and received her M.F.A. in Writing Popular Fiction from Seton Hill University. She’s currently an author, writing coach, a mother, and a wife.
With Mackenzie Lucas–whether you’re reading her light paranormal romance, her small-town-based contemporary romance, or her steamin’ hawt erotica–you’ll always get a story about connectedness, community, and emotional authenticity, and, at its core, love. No, and it doesn’t hurt that all her heroes are panty-melting gorgeous alphas and all their sexy, sensually aware heroines know how to stand up to them, give no quarter, and love them just as they are.
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About Into the Darkness
I’d always been different. I saw objects in the night where others saw emptiness. Large, human shaped shadows, fierce yet beautiful, melting into the darkness. I collected secrets like other women collected bells; afraid to fully trust lest my oddities be exposed.
Until I saw him. He’d been gliding down the street, unshakable confidence in every step. It wasn’t just that he was breathtakingly handsome with perfect features. Something about him drew me. Sucked my focus to him and then tugged at my body. As his eyes met mine, I was entrapped.
No one had noticed him. He’d been right there, just beyond the light, but only I had perceived.
I had to know if he was real. Or maybe I really was crazy. And even when my secret box was blasted wide open, dangers hurled at me like throwing knives, I couldn’t stop until I unraveled his true identity.
I just had to know.
“She was fated to live.”
“Then why must you save her?”
“Often Fate is struck down by dumb luck.”
“We established that, yes. What I want to know is, if I am human, what does that make you? And why do I notice you when others usually don’t?”
His head cocked to the side. His easy balance, his lethal edge; he was like a blade resting on billowing silk. “Very few humans are able to withstand our pheromones. Fewer still to break a Kolma once it has been placed. You’ve not been trained, that’s obvious, so how is this possible when you’re definitely human? Do you possess the blood of another species?”
I could barely think past the pounding ache of my body, begging to touch him. I needed to get a grip! He was revealing some very interesting factoids that I needed to jot down in my mental notebook.
His nostrils flared. “Charles was right; your arousal is a unique scent. Like a spicy, warm drink on a mid-winter’s night. It rises above other smells, entrancing the mind.”
About the Author
A wine country native, K.F. Breene moved to San Francisco for college just shy of a decade ago to pursue a lifelong interest in film. As she settled into the vibrant city, it quickly became apparent that, while she thought making and editing films was great fun, she lacked cinematic genius. For that reason, her career path quickly changed direction. Her next goal was a strange childhood interest, conjured at the dining room table while filling out a form. For some reason, her young self wanted to be an accountant. Thinking on it now, she often wonders how she had any friends. Regardless, it was the direction she finally took.
While she could wrangle numbers with the best of ‘em, and even though she wore the crown as the most outspoken, belligerent accountant in the world, her mind got as stuffy as her daily routine. It was here that she dusted off her creative hat and began writing. Now she makes movies in her head, not worried about lighting, shutter speed or editing equipment. Turns out, a computer is much easier to manage than a crowd of actors. She should know, she was an actor at one time.