Enchanting Readers One Author At A Time!

Friday, May 30, 2014

Cover Reveal Blitz: The Dark Seduction of Miss Jane by Amanda McIntyre


The Dark Seduction of Miss Jane 
By Amanda McIntyre

Blurb: 
A scandalous betrayal sets Miss Jane Goodwin on an unexpected journey to London to pursue her dream of being the first female investigative journalist, but she soon finds herself in a hotbed of murder and controversy. Seduced by the passions of a mysterious lover and stalked by a madman, tensions mount as Jane falls prey to her desires, only to discover a deadly secret that threatens more than just her trust in men.

Inspector Randolph Mansfield is one of Scotland Yard’s elite, battling the dark secrets of his past while trying to solve a rash of grisly murders threatening to mar Queen Victoria's Jubilee. His respite is the anonymity he finds in the decadence of a private gentleman’s club, until a determined American journalist goes undercover in search of her stalker and he finds the lines between protection and passion blurred. But as tensions heat and her life is threatened, he must choose whether to reveal his true identity at the risk of losing her trust and his career.



Release Date: 
July 11, 2014


Excerpt:

London 1887
“Of course, the Her Majesty is having her Golden Jubilee in June. They say it’s to be one of the grandest celebrations that London has seen in some time. There are preparations being made for a parade, a gala ball, and fireworks, as I understand it.”

“Not if the socialists have anything to say about it,” Wesley muttered.
The conversation came to an abrupt standstill. From the look that Isabella darted to her nephew, Jane sensed that she did not appreciate his interjection.
“What?” He looked back at his aunt. “Shouldn't she have a realistic view of what is happening in lovely London town?”

Isabella pointed her finger, prepared to respond when the carriage came to an abrupt stop, taking with it any semblance of a breeze.

“Probably traffic. I’m sure it’s just a slight delay. We should be moving soon,” Isabella said, working the fan diligently in front of her face.

Jane poked her head out of the window, hopeful for a gulp of air, but curious just the same as to the delay.

“Why don’t I tell you about our writing club while we wait?” Isabella suggested.
Jane drew in her head, less interested in hearing about the club than what was preventing their progress in getting there. She dropped her book and gloves on the seat beside her and gathered her skirts to exit the carriage. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll just step outside and see what the reason for our delay is.” The truth of it was that the stifling heat inside the cab was making her nauseated.

“Watch out, miss,” a gruff voice boomed out of nowhere as she opened the door. Caught off guard, she missed the step entirely and escaped total embarrassment of landing on her face thanks to a set of strong arms that captured her waist. “You should learn to look, young woman, before you step from a coach.”

Jane steadied her legs, preparing to face her rescuer.

“Excuse me, miss. I’m in a bit of a hurry.”

“But I…” She barely caught a glimpse of him as he turned and headed at a quick gait up the street. From her view, she noted his hair, badly in need of attention, was thick, coal black and hung in deep waves over his collar. His dark brown coat flapped around his long legs in his determined haste.

“Ah, I see you’ve met our illustrious Inspector Mansfield.” Wesley hopped from the carriage. Together they watched him disappear around the corner of a building a few yards ahead. Other curiosity seekers were trotting toward the same direction.

“Come on.” Intrigued, she grabbed Wesley’s hand.

“Where to, Miss Jane?” He gave her a puzzled look, but kept up with her stride.

“To wherever he is going. He is the inspector, correct?”

“True, but…”

Jane lifted the hem of her skirt, empowered by the familiar rush of a reporter’s adrenaline infusing her stamina. She looked over her shoulder and spoke to Wesley, who lagged a few steps behind. “Then we certainly don’t want to miss whatever he is so hell-bent to get to.” This is what she lived for, the drama of everyday life. Perhaps it was the thrill of the unknown—the chase, as it were. A trait derived no doubt by her adventuresome parents. They never settled for long between their journeys, always, it seemed, in a constant state of preparation for their next mission. They loved Jane, of course, but as she grew older, she began to wonder if her conception had simply been another grand venture. When they were around, they were larger than life to her—filled with glorious stories and tales of their journeys. And when they were gone and her life was divided between boarding school and Aunt Cornelia’s house, their letters were all that Jane had to cling to in her adolescence. They had promised that when she was of a proper age, they would take her with them. But that promise—unfilled—followed them to their graves. Now it was up to Jane to find her own adventures.

“Miss Jane, it could be dangerous,” Wesley called as they waded into the crowd beginning to clog the street. He caught up to her, keeping pace with her tenacity in pushing through the throng.

“Very possibly, but what great story isn’t just a bit dangerous, I ask you?” She smiled at him with a quick glance as they neared the top of the hill to follow where the inspector had disappeared.

A rigid wall of uniformed constables formed a barricade at the end of the street, keeping gawkers from disrupting whatever scene lay ahead. The crowd pressed close to the human barrier, trying to catch a glimpse at what was going on.

“They’ve blocked the street.” Wesley craned his neck over the huddled mass in front of them.

“Do you see any possible way of getting closer?” she asked, searching for a way through the tightly packed humanity.

“Another body part.”

Jane whirled to see where the whispered comment had come from, but too many people had crowded around her.

“The second in a few weeks’ time. I hear the inspector has his hands bloody full. He’s got no way of knowing how to identify the bits.”

Jane was astounded by the whispered rumors. How was it that such news had not yet made it across the Atlantic? Quiet murmurs followed with a gasp or two, but no one spoke aloud. Jane struggled, backtracking until she found Wesley. She grabbed his arm and leaned close. “Did you hear? They say it’s a body part?” Horror-stricken, she stared at him. “What is going on in London that you’ve not told me about?”

Wesley’s expression clouded and he looked around, leaning close so he wouldn’t be overheard. “Be cautious of what you say, Jane. And don’t jump to conclusions based on hearsay.”

Her gaze narrowed, and so too, her patience. “A good reporter will verify the rumors, you can be assured, sir.”  Still, she couldn’t say why it perplexed her that the Hamptons had not even mentioned such macabre goings-on in their correspondence. “Still, I heard it plain as day. Someone said it was a body part.”
He tucked his thumbs in his pockets, his lip curling in a brief smile. “People love to gossip, Jane. The longer you’re here, the more you will see that London is a great melting pot of many types of people. They arrive daily, bringing their beliefs, their way of life, with them. Frankly, not all of them agree with how the queen dictates the government.”

“I don’t understand,” she whispered sternly. “Are you saying that these murders are motivated by”—she waved one hand—“politics?”

“Sshh.” He frowned at her. “The streets have ears.”

Jane sighed and noticed over his shoulder an opening near the barricade of solemn-faced Bobbies. She surged forward, determined to see for herself what the city agencies were trying to hide. She heard Wesley calling her name, but fought through the mob, making her way to the front.

“Miss Goodwin!”

Wesley’s voice carried over the heads of the crowd. She pressed forward, confident he would catch up. She faced the determined uniformed officers and pushed up on her toes to catch a glimpse beyond the broad shoulders of London’s finest. A few yards away, she spotted the dark-haired inspector. He was kneeling beside an object that he’d hastily covered with his own coat. Her thoughts raced with how she could get close enough to speak to him, but even as she considered her options, an ambulance with the words St. John’s Hospital painted on the side arrived. The drivers, holding white sheets up to shroud the object from public view, placed it in the wagon, and carted it away. Within moments of its departure, the congested group of gawkers began to dissipate as quickly as they’d assembled. Looking weary and slightly frustrated from his battle with the crowd, Wesley arrived at Jane’s side.

“Were you able to see anything?” Wesley eyed the inspector and the men circled around him as he spoke. He appeared to be giving out instructions.
“No, they’ve shielded something from the crowd.” Jane looked at Wesley, knowing that whatever it was, seemed very small. Wrapped in the hospital drape, it had taken only one man to carry it back to the ambulance. “Has this happened before?

Do they have any leads?”

Wesley hesitated, and then gently took her arm. “We’ll discuss this in private, Jane. Not here on the street.”

She walked beside him, his arm looped through hers. She slowed as they passed by the inspector and the small group of men he spoke to, hoping to overhear some of what was being said. She was so focused on listening that she didn’t realize until too late the dark eyes of the inspector studying her. Transfixed, she regarded him and his brooding expression. His firm jaw looked as though untouched by his morning razor, clenched as his provocative mouth turned down in a grim frown. His eyes, unwavering, held hers, following her like a panther watching his prey. Despite the warm temperature, a shiver skated across her shoulders. Jane forced herself to look away.





About The Author


Amanda McIntyre grew up the daughter of a father who was a distributor for a New York magazine publishing firm, and usually had her nose stuck in the latest issue of Vampirella magazine or a Hitchcock Mystery paperback. She has been called  "a true artist in the writing realm' and her zest for life inspires her "character-driven" stories. Her passion is to take ordinary people and place them in extraordinary situations. She is a best-selling, multi-genre hybrid author and has received numerous awards and nominations for her work. Amanda is published internationally, in audio, e-book and in print. She currently writes sizzling contemporary cowboy romance and is about to release her first historical erotic thriller.







You can find Amanda here:

         





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Thursday, May 29, 2014

Cover Reveal Blitz: Five Weeks (Seven Series, #3) by Dannika Dark


Five Weeks
(Seven Series, Bk #3)
By Dannika Dark 

Blurb:
Izzy has always loved the freedom and adventure of life on the road, but she’s recently decided to settle down—as much as a rogue wolf can. When her boyfriend gets her a job working at a hot Shifter bar, she runs into the last person on earth she expected to see again.

Jericho isn't the famous rock star he once was, though he still plays in a local band and loves to party. Beautiful women come and go, but music is his only passion—until a sassy redhead named Isabelle Monroe shows up unexpectedly.

Fate reunites two former friends living with one foot in the present and the other in the past. But will they have a future when one of them is forced to choose between life and death? Old habits die hard, and sometimes the toughest addictions to shake are the ones that control our hearts.





Release Date:
July 29th 2014


Excerpt


As the men dispersed, a warm feeling slid over my body when I looked up at Jericho. His eyes were hooded and low, but when he melted me with a possessive gaze, my feet cemented to the floor.

He moved toward me with the grace of a panther—slow and predatory. The external noise from the bar faded away, and all I heard were his silken words as he caressed the ends of my hair, looking at it between his fingers.

“You haven’t changed,” he said in quiet words.

“What do you mean by that?”

Jericho bent down and his mouth brushed against my ear. “Still sexy as sin and making me protect you.”

Goose bumps erupted over my arms. “No one said you had to protect me. I’m not the shy girl you once knew.” My heart raced. The inflection in my tone wasn't as harsh as I’d planned it to be, my words breathy and unsure.

His warm body pressed against mine and when I stepped back, I bumped into a wooden post that pinned me to him. Tingles raced through my body uncontrollably, and I lost the ability to think rationally when I smelled his cologne. Men neverhad this kind of effect on me. His power slid down my body like hands against my naked flesh.

Jericho had a smile that aroused, and combined with his voice, it became an aphrodisiac.

Or maybe it was the way his callused fingers lightly stroked the back of my neck, as if I were an instrument. As he played me, memories flooded my mind, and I shoved him away, panting and trembling.

Jericho worked his jaw in a frustrated manner, his brows slanting down with a look of disbelief. He shook his head and then backed up.

A brunette appeared out of nowhere in a revealing top that displayed her breasts like cookies in a bakery: warm, tempting, and something you’d regret later.

“How’s my sexy man?” she asked, tucking her fingers possessively in his jeans and nipping on his arm. “You want to go have some fun?”

His eyes stayed locked on mine as he circled his arm around her waist and pulled her against him. She moaned playfully as he squeezed her hip, testing if I had my temper under control.

So I played his game.

“Can I get you a drink, honey?” I asked her. “Maybe some milk in a dish?”

Sometimes I could spot the cats. It was all in the purr and the way they slinked their bodies.

“No, thanks,” she replied. “I have something else in mind I want to put in my mouth.”

When she stroked his crotch, I blinked in surprise. Not just because she had the audacity to do that in front of me, but the fact that Jericho tilted his head and gave me a “so what?” look.

So what?

Maybe he was right. All that connected us were five amazing years, and that was a lifetime ago. Seeing him made me raw again. Those feelings caught up with me like a shadow that had never let go. Part of me wanted to squeeze him tight and tell him how much I’d missed him—because I had. Jericho had shown me the private side of himself he never gave to others, and I’d done the same for him. Another part of me wanted to hate him for the anguish he’d put me through. And yet, I couldn't help but feel elated knowing that despite his insolence, Jericho wasn't lying in a grave as I’d imagined. He’d somehow assembled his life into something meaningful and gotten a grip on his demons.

Meanwhile, my demons were currently on the rampage and waving pitchforks.

So I said cutting words that hurt because I meant them, and yet I didn't.

“I wish I’d never met you.”





About the Author


This is the segment where you learn a little more about who I am, so here's what I can tell you:  I drink copious amounts of vitamin water placed precariously close to my laptop while writing. These are two healthy habits I have no intention of breaking. I'm a transplant living in the south, but I was born in the 70's to a military dad who moved us around the world.

When I'm not writing (which is all the time), I'm hunting down Indie music, watching movies, reading, eating Tex-Mex, discovering new ways to humiliate myself bowling, and burning up my laptop battery on the Internet. I have a relaxed, easy-going personality and don't like drama. I live with a cat who thinks she is a dog, or a goat (she eats plastic, so I'm not sure which).

Throughout my life, I've had insomnia. Counting sheep never worked and eventually I would imagine those sheep were the sole source of food after an apocalyptic battle where only thousands survived. I made up stories in a futile attempt to bore myself to sleep. The problem was, I got so wrapped up in my "head stories" that I would continue them through the following nights, changing it up each time to make it more exciting. Eventually, I started writing my ideas down - creating short stories, and then I discovered my love for poetry.

It's almost embarrassing how many spiral notebooks and stacks of paper I have of poetry and lyrics.

Another passion: digital art. I design all my book covers, marketing, and series art. I'm a very visual person and pursued photography as an avid hobby for many years.

I am not a YA author (I feel like I have to state this only because I've had a few people ask), but I think it's wonderful there are so many books available to teens in Urban Fantasy and Paranormal.

I am finally doing what I have always wanted to do: giving my characters a pulse through writing full time. I focus on adult urban fantasy romance, but I don't like labels and I enjoy blending genres to break out of the confines of predictability.

But it's what I love to do.

Danni

You can stalk, I mean find Dannika here: 

            





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Monday, May 19, 2014

Hildie McQueen's Blue Horizon Blog Tour (Review Only)



Tour Stops

May 19, 2014
Sofia Loves Books

May 20, 2014


May 21, 2014
Rage, Sex and Teddy Bears

May 22, 2014
Bookworm Bridgette's World

May 23, 2014
 Love Affair with an e-Reader

May 24, 2014

May 25, 2014
Corazones Literarios



Blue Horizon
(Shades of Blue #4)
by Hildie McQueen 

Blurb:
 

Josiah McClintock finds himself at a crossroads. A choice between remaining in Alder Gulch or returning to his previous life. A life that he's kept hidden from everyone, including Laura, the woman in his care after a terrible tragedy. 

Laura Foster isn't sure she has a reason to live after so many losses. Although she doesn't understand why Josiah insists on being her protector, his presence in her life becomes the only beacon of hope for a future. 

Will they be able to ever come together and when they do will their love overcome secrets, tragedies and the danger that looms? 




Available for purchase at 

   


About The Author

Hildie McQueen loves storytelling and unusual settings, pair that with humor and you've got an idea of what her writing is like.

She makes sure action, intrigue, and sizzling romance add up to a story, her readers won’t soon forget.  Her favorite past-times are traveling, shopping and reading. She resides in beautiful small town Georgia with her super-hero husband Kurt and two unruly Chihuahuas.




You can find Hildie at

            


 Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tuesday, May 13, 2014

Cover Reveal Blitz: Little Red by Trista Jaszczak





Little Red
(Believe Series, Bk #1)
By Trista Jaszczak

Blurb: 
Samantha Wentworth has one mission in life; to get as far away as she possibly can from her troubled past. 

When she finds herself on the Louisiana bayou she runs straight into the arms of a very sexy Big Bad Wolf that she just can’t seem to resist. 

Will Samantha continue on her journey, or does the full moon have other plans in store for her?



Release Date:
June 13, 2014



Excerpt 

I stand up slowly and begin to fight what I’m about to do. I beg myself to sit down, look away, anything, but instead I trail up to her. She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t shudder; strangely, her eyes stay locked onto mine. I take the extra towel from her and draw her body to mine. I hear her left out a small gasp, and I can tell her heart rate has quickened. I bring a hand to her face, letting it trail from her cheek to her neck, all the way to the back of her head. I pull her in for a kiss. A proper one. That feeling I felt before returns as something inside me nearly loses control. My legs begin to feel weak as I realize that she’s kissing me back. It’s as soon as my tongue flickers over hers that I really feel I may lose it. I pull away for a moment and close my eyes.

“This is how it’s supposed to be,” I mumble to her. I work to keep myself under control, I remind myself to keep a slower pace, not to rush. I catch a sudden wave of Red’s feelings…the want and need is there, and it makes it more difficult to control myself. I try to relax, remind myself to pace myself but when Red pushes her body into mine,

I fully lose any control that I had. Her arms fly around my neck and I do nothing to stop her. Her lips find mine as her hands reach for my belt buckle. She wastes no time in unbuckling and unzipping my jeans. I reach for the last towel and yank it from her body as she pulls my tee shirt off and throws it across the room. She wraps her arms around me again and lets her lips find mine as I wrap my arms around her, lifting her in one swift movement. Her legs immediately cinch around my waist and I steady myself quickly as I push her against the nearest wall.

She moans loudly and I feel her nails dig into my back briefly. I begin biting tenderly down her neck in a way that leaves tiny little marks but enough to make her groan with pleasure. I feel all self-control leave my body as I steady her against the wall and begin using my strength to lift her upwards as I move my mouth down her body. I feel her hands tug at my hair as I clamp my teeth down on one of her nipples.

She releases another moan and I feel her breathing become choppy as I work my way down her core; kissing, biting, licking, and unable to control myself. I finally find myself in a squat position, I quickly adjust Red’s over my shoulders and I feel her shake. Everything in me wants to have her, every single piece of her right this minute. I need her. Not to just satisfy the raw animal craving that his built up inside me, but because I need every piece of the one thing that I ever wanted and needed so badly.

I slow my kisses past her belly button and move to her inner thighs. I look up at her and her eyes catch my gaze. She’s breathing heavily, her legs begin to tremble more as I steady her against the wall as I drop to my knees to maintain my own balance. When my mouth finally latches to her, letting my tongue do the work for me, she releases a noise filled with such intense pleasure that there’s no going back. I need her even more now.



About The Author

Trista Jaszczak is the Amazon.com bestselling author of Loverboy and the highly anticipated release Little Red, coming June 13th.


She is an Air Force spouse and mother to two mischievous and rambunctious little girls. She is creative by nature and not only writes, but is a photographer who braves the cold to chase the northern lights. She also plays guitar and sings, two things that have become a favorite past time of hers when she’s not behind the glowing screen of her computer. And, though she considers it just a hobby, loves to sketch and paint. 

She is originally from Hamilton, Ohio but calls home where ever the Air Force sends her. She currently resided in Anchorage, Alaska where she finds endless inspiration in the pure Alaskan wilderness. Though the rain can seem endless in the fall, and the constant daylight is a burden in the summers, she considers it a privilege to live there.  

When Trista isn’t writing, she loves to spend her time with her family in the vast Alaskan outdoors, plucking away at her old guitar, working out in the gym, or baby her two over-grown Labrador puppies. She loves the great outdoors, the moon, old movies,  and music. She loves being creative, practicing her photography, and wildlife. If you need to get in touch with her, since her life is 10 ways of crazy right now, you can always.


You can find Trista at 

               






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Tuesday, May 6, 2014

Elisabeth Staab's "Hunter By Night" Spotlight Tour


Tour Stop: 

May 7, 2014: 
Readaholics Anonymous
Vivinaa, Enchantress of Books

May 12, 2014: 
Tea and Book
Binding Addiction

May 14, 2014: 
Brooke Blogs
Scenes from a Chaotic Mind

May 19, 2014: 
Rage, Sex and Teddy Bears
Share My Destiny

May 21, 2014:
 My Fiction Nook
Corazones Literarios

May 26, 2014: 
HEAs Are Us
Romancing the Readers

May 28, 2014: 
deal sharing aunt
Read Me
Diane’s Book Blog

June 2, 2014:
 Mad Hatter Reads
Ramblings From This Chick


Elisabeth Staab
(Chronicles of Yavn #3)
By Elisabeth Staab

Blurb: 
She wants out
Party girl Alexia Blackburn is only hanging around the vampire compound until her best friend—the queen—has her baby. After that, nothing is going to stop Alexia from getting back to daylight, safety, and feeling like a normal human being. But leaving the vampire world has one big catch...

He needs her to stay
Head of vampire security Lee Goram has hated and distrusted humans for centuries. Feeding on vampire blood has kept him strong...but now it's killing him—and he's horrified to discover that Alexia may hold the key to his cure. He'd rather die defending his king than admit his weakness, but time is running out for the great vampire warrior...




Available for pre-order at 

      

Release Date:
June 3, 2014


Excerpt


She leaned close to avoid being heard by all the sensitive ears in the room. “We’re out of the literal and metaphorical woods. You can get blood from anyone. I thought drinking human blood was, like, worse than licking bat guano off a wizard’s shoe.”

The softness of his laugh shimmied straight down her spine. Dear merciful Lord. “I don’t claim to understand.” His lips feathered against her ear. “In the cave, the pain abated when I drank from you.” He pushed closer, his breath soft and hot. “Nothing has eased it in a long time. No one. Whatever this… problem… is, drinking from you eased the pain. It’s the one thing I know for certain."

Oh, hell. Only her blood? Talk about making a gal melt in the weirdest way possible. She wanted to be all snarky and make him beg or apologize or something, but fuckballs, that was the most beautiful thing ever. Besides, she wanted to ease his hurt more than she wanted to get even.

Alexia glanced around and pulled him into an empty room next to the nurse’s station. To be safe, she locked the door and pulled the curtain thingy. Two comfy chairs sat by the hospital bed. She tugged one close and offered her wrist. It seemed the fastest way, and this was urgent.

The strike of his fangs hardly surprised her this time. Much like a tattoo or a piercing, you got used to the pinch. Isabel had drunk from her a few times when they’d first become friends, but that had been different. That hadn’t been a two-hundred-and-whatever-pound vampire male in a desperate amount of pain.

Oh, holy… Wow.

The relief was amazing. Fireworks and dynamite. The pressure flowed out of her along with the blood. What rushed in to take its place, though, was a disturbing sense of rightness. In giving herself to him in a way she had never wanted to give to anyone. Somehow her other arm wound around his neck, and either he didn’t notice or he didn’t actually mind. It’s just the blood, like he said before.

But then his fingers crept into her hair. Her body slid down into the large, comfy chair. Lee pressed closer, on his knees now in front of her, her arm held aloft by his efforts as he lapped at her wrist. His tongue trailed down her arm to catch a wayward drip. On his knees with his long legs, Lee’s pelvis pressed against hers through their pants, his erection hard and thick and throwing off heat.

Alexia couldn't stop herself from wrapping her legs around his waist and bringing him closer. Her hand grasped his free arm, which had moved from the chair to her leg. Their fingers laced together.

Lee’s groan vibrated against her wrist.

A knock sounded at the door.


The Chronicles of Yavn Series



About the Author

Elisabeth Staab still lives with her nose in a book and at least one foot in an imaginary world. She believes that all kinds of safe and sane love should be celebrated but she adores the fantasy-filled realm of paranormal romance the best. She lives in the Washington DC area with her family and one big scaredy cat, where she loves to spend time with good friends, go dancing, collect wacky coffee mugs from which to drink her favorite beverage, and sing off-key in her kitchen (when she isn’t making characters fall in love, that is).



You can stalk her, I mean find her at

         



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