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An Accident Waiting to Dragon
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- EXCERPT: Sweaty from their trek and the feelings that refused to fade, Gwen was damn tempted to dive right in, but before she could, Asher stripped off his shoes and socks, his hands going to the fly of his jeans. “What are you doing?” she asked. He didn’t face her, but she could hear the rare teasing smile in his voice. “Bathing.” He was going to bathe. Right now? In front of her? Sure. No big deal. She was a fully grown adult. Most supernatural creatures didn’t have hang-ups about nudity the way humans did. She could handle this. He’d go first, then she’d take a turn. They could draw their drinking water upstream when they were done. Asher dropped his pants, leaving him in nothing but black boxer-briefs, which showed off the muscles of his thighs as he waded into the water. Then he turned to face her, a playful glint in his eyes she hadn’t seen in a long time. Sure enough, next came the shirt. Damn. There went the small amount of control she’d wrangled for herself over the course of their trek. Gone in an instant. With an eye roll, she walked to a flat rock at the edge of the water. A second later, a splash told her he was fully submerged now. By the time she’d taken off her sock and shoes, and rolled up her pants to dangle her legs, she figured it was safe for her to look. A horrible idea, it turned out. A flash of movement under the surface caught her eye a second before Asher came up out of the water, facing her, lifting his hands to slick back his dark hair, his muscles rippling with the movement. Now that was just freaking unfair. It was like nature was trying to highlight all the hotness she’d been missing all this time. Hotness that had just been inside of her. Oh. My. Gods. Heat flared in her cheeks yet again. Which was when Asher opened his eyes and caught her staring. His gaze locked in on her, and for once she couldn’t make out what he was thinking. But she couldn’t look away, her chest growing tighter by the second. Was he-- Asher swam toward her. “Why aren’t you coming in?” She nearly shook her head. No, it couldn’t be. Her oh-so-serious dragon wasn’t trying to…tease her, play with her? Was he? He’s not your dragon, Gwendolyn Moonsoar. He’s not your anything, she tried to remind herself. But that thought was feeling more and more flimsy by the second…considering the way he was looking at her. She shrugged, trying to play it cool while her face was probably still flaming red. Maybe he’d put that down to their trek? “I’ll wait until you’re done.” A frown flitted across his features, far more familiar and comfortable than his teasing, but then he swam forward until he could stand in front of her. “You don’t have to wait. There’s plenty of room.” Gwen opened her mouth to wave him off with something vague only to get a little lost in the deep navy of his eyes. “I…don’t think that would be a good idea,” she found herself saying. His jaw tightened visibly. “I would never—” Without thinking, she pressed a single finger against his lips and they both sort of froze at the contact. Gwen swallowed and pulled away slowly. “I know,” she whispered. “You’re not the one I don’t trust.” Asher’s brows drew together, stopped, then crept back up as her meaning sank in that she was the problem here. Her and all her discombobulated feelings. That glint from a moment ago reignited in his eyes, only up close it was even more potent, more dangerous. “Do you need rescuing?” he asked, his voice dropping lower. Oh my gods. The memory of their first kiss, the first time he’d said those words to her, swirled and blended with this one, and excited butterflies hit her insides full force. But she couldn’t. They couldn’t. Could they? What she wanted to say was, “From you?” like she had back then. Instead, she just shook her head and went to stand up, to put distance between them. Only Asher grabbed her hand, his hold gentle as she stilled. “I’ve missed you, Gwen,” he said softly. “I want you to know that.” A lump of emotion and longing formed inside her throat. Was he trying to make this a thousand times harder for her? More confusing? More need-inducing? When she didn’t say anything but she also didn’t leave, he slowly moved closer, right up against her rock, so that he was standing between her dangling legs. He paused there. “I really want to kiss you, and not just in a dream, but I won’t if you say no, or if you need rescuing for real.” This close, right in her space where she could feel the natural warmth of a dragon shifter radiating from his skin, feel his breath against her cheek…gods, he was temptation. Gwen forced her gaze away, dropping it to her lap. It didn’t help. She still wanted to kiss him. “I—” She shifted her gaze to the left and paused, then peered closer at his side. What the—? Then she choked. Asher jerked to follow her gaze, searching the water around him for some threat maybe. “What’s wrong?” She stared at him with her mouth ajar for enough time that he stopped searching for danger to bracket her face with his hands, his expression growing harder with concern. “Gwen—” 
GIVEAWAY! --
My War, My Child
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- EXCERPT: Farzad startled when she touched his arm. Her voice had changed indeed, weaker, but still the voice that in old days—not so very old either—-was the one voice that meant the whole world to him. For a single instant, his thoughts strayed away into the past, and the marvel of his first love came back to him. His heart awoke under that touch, like a sudden flash of light, bringing back happy moments. And sad. He remembered that he had turned away abruptly, that in his preoccupied state of mind, he had not spoken one soothing word to her. The days when he adored her, thought her the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, the days when he lived on in the bitterness of missing her gentle love for him, could not be revived again. And it occurred to him that he still had a moment to decide, only a brief moment now, whether to take her back or abandon her. 
GIVEAWAY! --
The Model’s Last Pose
-- EXCERPT: Two koi swam away, but a majestic red one with white fins and tail stayed. “Oh, I see how it is. They’re loyal to Nina. But you?” Serena pointed to the fish. “Have sympathy for everyone.” She threw her head back and blew air through her lips. “Where do I begin?” When Serena looked at the pond again, the koi hadn’t budged. “I loved him, you know. Madly. Passionately.” She stared at the fish. “Who am I talking about, you ask? My ex-husband, Justice Tate. He was a bad boy, and I loved bad boys. He owned a motorcycle, and we’d go on day trips, seeing parts of the state I’d never seen before. We had fun together, so much fun. When he asked me to marry him, I think I fainted. Not literally. But in my mind, I did.” The koi’s mouth formed in the shape of an “O”. He, because Serena decided it must be a male, seemed interested in the story. “You want to hear the rest? It gets uglier. Sadder. I can’t really label it.” Other fish swam by, distracting the red and white koi. He turned away but reappeared after a dip underwater. “What do you like to eat?” Serena asked. “Next time I’ll come prepared.” The fish seemed to like her statement. Serena swore he nodded. They sat in silence for a moment, and she decided he was waiting to hear more of her sad tale. “Okay,” Serena finally said. “Fine. I’ll tell you. We were young when we got married. Twenty-one, to be exact. We had two great years together, then I got pregnant with twins. Girls. Justice wanted to name the girls Jade and Jewel like the shiny, precious gems they were, and so we did. At first, everything was fine. Justice was the typical doting dad. But they cramped his style. We couldn’t take off at a moment’s notice with a double stroller. That didn’t fit on the back of a motorcycle. We needed a practical car. I encouraged Justice to choose whatever he wanted so he’d feel invested. Once the girls started school, I thought things would get better.” She paused and shook her head. “Nope.” She put emphasis on the ‘p’. “They got worse.” 
GIVEAWAY! -- From the blurb: Rick, Duke of Stonerick, enjoys leading a busy life with his friends playing cards, fencing and honing his expert marksmanship. He even enjoys exchanging loving jabs with his mother about not being married. But when a mysterious illness reminds the duke that he has no heir, in a feverish gamble, he picks a random lady from the list of prospects his mother penned for him and writes a simple marriage proposal on a letter. And he forgets about it—until a tempting lady with an iron will and breathtaking bravery shows up at his doorstep, ready to accept. Perhaps he has found a solution for his predicament, not to mention an enigma he intends to unravel little by little. Miss Edwina Fine has one shot at finding a husband before the ton learns she is one of the triplet sisters hidden away from society. With red hair and green eyes, she is hyper aware of her undesirability, but needs to find a husband all the same. When a marriage proposal from the Duke of Stonerick arrives by mail, Edwina cannot pass up the chance to accept. But nothing prepared her for the undeniable attraction she feels when they finally meet. It will take more than Edwina’s wit to help her navigate her secrets and the passion that flares up within her. The second in the new historical romance trilogy Say I Do about dukes needing to wed to tap into their wealth by New York Times bestseller Amelia Grey! Publication Date: March 26, 2024 Publisher: St.Martin's Press/ St.Martin's Paperbacks 9781250850430, 1250850436 Purchase link  My thoughts: If you are a true fan of regency romance, I'm sure Amelia Grey's book already have a dedicated place on your bookshelf. I have been anticipating this newest release ever since I read Yours Truly, Duke in March 2023 and it didn't disappoint. It's sweet and charming, heartwarming and exciting at the same time, and, above all, entertaining.. It starts with one of the most ridiculous proposals ever-our lovely male protagonist, who we are repeatedly being told isn't a paragon of patience, is suffering from an unexpected bout of high fever. He is implored by his mother to choose his future bride and marry as soon as possible to ensure the dukedom succession (my dear regency romance reader, we are more than familiar with this all too frequent predicament that seemed to inflict only the most lovable, most roguish dukes). He happily forgets this fateful conversation with his mother, until a certain Miss Edwina Fine shows up on his step. The young lady isn't just someone he is immediately and inexplicably attracted to, she is someone who claims to have received a letter of proposal from his Grace himself....and the letter turns out to be genuine. Miss Edwina is in a need of a husband or rather three husbands. She promised it to her dying father that she would find suitable fiances for herself and her older sisters before the end of the season. Her real predicament isn't even the fact that having lived most of her life in a quiet, remote part of Yorkshire, Miss Edwina isn't exactly familiar with the society. Her biggest fear is that even if Duke of Stonerick decides to go through with his proposal, which would throw her sisters in the path of many eligible bachelors, one particular superstition that directly affects Fine sisters might scare the potential husbands off- namely the fact that they are triplets and as if this wasn't enough, all of them have red hair and green eyes. Amelia Grey's writing flows so easily and draws you into this fun story with its extremely likeable protagonists. I loved the way Rick and Edwina get to know each slowly and develop what already started as a very strong attraction into something even more romantic- a real connection that some of us call true love. Looking forward to reading Amelia Grey's next book! Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the review copy. All thoughts and opinions are my own and were not influenced in any way.  About the author: New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Amelia Grey read her first romance book when she was thirteen and she’s been a devoted reader of love stories ever since. Her awards include the Booksellers Best, Aspen Gold, and the Golden Quill. Writing as Gloria Dale Skinner, she won the coveted Romantic Times Award for Love and Laughter and the prestigious Maggie Award. Her books have sold to many countries in Europe, Indonesia, Turkey, Russia, and Japan.
A Strange Affinity
-- EXCERPT: Glory adored her new magician’s studio. The space was outfitted as a smith’s shop, furnished with a long workbench, a wall hung with gently worn but serviceable tools, and a small, portable blacksmith’s forge. She was awkward with many of the tools at first but grew better and more proficient by the day. Glory worked long into the evenings, well past the end of her classes. She came to love the feeling of being surrounded by scraps of different metals: gold, silver, copper, and iron. It felt like being surrounded by friends, or family. It was hard for Glory to describe but she felt that each metal had a different personality. Glory thrived under Jacinda’s tutelage. She went on to master a series of ever-challenging tasks she had set before her: Molding new shapes, melding metals together, and extracting the elements. Soon each new task seemed easier than the last. In a recent conversation, Jacinda had warned Glory these new skills were among the easiest for a magician. True transformation of physical properties was much harder, and in some cases, impossible without several years of further study. “Lead to gold?” Glory had asked, skepticism and humor in her voice. She remembered reading such silly tales among her father’s library. Jacinda had chuckled. “Not quite. You’re bound by the chemical properties of the source material. But with study and practice, who knows what’s possible? The magical properties of metal are vastly understudied and largely composed of myths and legends about alchemy. And because there are so few metal magicians, we still don’t know what they — you — are capable of.” 
GIVEAWAY! --
The Professor
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- EXCERPT: “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “Pretend you don’t want it.” His kiss is urgent, unyielding. He forces my mouth open, allowing me to feign resistance. Or at the very least, nonchalance. I let him tilt my head back and run his lips down my neck. It’s a terrible game I’m playing, letting him take the fall for our mutual destruction. I should at least tell him, confess my own desire, even if he already knows. It would be the honorable thing to do. “Will—” “Ah ah,” he says with a slow shake of his head, with a devastating expression of knowing in his dark eyes. “In this office, you will address me as Professor Stratford.” My secret muscles clench, and he gives me an almost boyish smile. “This gets you hot, doesn’t it, Ms. Hill?” How is this possible? I had a heavy course load of classes my freshman year, with professors of every shape and size. They were smart and interesting, and for the most part, at least somewhat arrogant. Professor Stratford is all those things…and more. He’s simply more. More handsome, more mysterious. More playful as he nips at my lower lip. “I asked you a direct question, Ms. Hill. Don’t make me punish you.” My eyes widen. It’s not an entirely fake break in my voice. “What kind of punishment?” “Let’s see,” he says, tugging my T-shirt off, leaving me in my bra. The starkness is enough to make my cheeks burn. He’s fully clothed while I’m shirtless. “For the first offense, I wouldn’t be too harsh. Then again, we can’t have disruptive students, can we?” I thought his fist in my hair had been perverse. That holding me up against the window had been a wild form of desire. This is far worse. And far better. At least my body thinks so, becoming hot and clenched, swollen around nothing, hungry to have him inside me again, thrusting and thrusting the ache away. “I tried to behave,” I tell him, surrendering to the game. Surrendering to him. “I tried to be a good student. It’s just that you were so…distracting.” That earns me a dark chuckle. Large, strong hands undress me with calm expediency, as if stacking books or finding the right page. With both care and anticipation. At this moment I’m the worn pages of an old copy of Romeo and Juliet. He thumbs through my pages. “You’d blame your professor for your own lack of focus?” I gasp at his touch, low and intimate. It’s too much, and I scoot back to get away from him. That only lands me on the edge of his desk, smooth wood cool beneath my bare ass. “Maybe I can make it up to you?” “Extra credit,” he says, musing. “Perhaps an oral report would suffice.” 
GIVEAWAY! --
Harleigh Sinclair and the Ice Crusade
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- EXCERPT: I stood at the doorway leading into the vaults of Mr. Walter Prescott’s most prized Neotact artifacts and debated how to steal one. Muted lights reflected over the black square of glass across from me. A hand scanner. “No keypad. Right,” I said under my breath before pulling off my leather gloves. Air conditioning hummed from the vents of the high-rise tower in San Antonio’s downtown district, and I let the cool air wash over my exposed skin. A cold shiver skittered down my spine, and I darted a glance at the dimly lit hallway stretching behind me. If things went south, it was my only escape. My new manager, King Khamron, had gotten me this far, but he’d stayed on the bottom floor near the building’s entrance to keep an eye out. Shaking my head, I turned my attention to the scanner. The glass interface seemed to taunt me. My boss would kill me if I couldn’t break inside. Why did it have to be a handprint scanner? Why couldn’t they use a no frills, super reliable—and easily hijacked—keypad? As I concentrated, I sighed in frustration. A jolt of energy sparked through my fingertips. The electrical pulses had gotten stronger since I’d returned from Egypt two weeks ago, and I chalked it up to being exposed to the legendary ankh artifact. Darrell Brownstein, a convicted serial killer and Blood Raider, had planned to kill me with it, but instead, I’d used the ankh against him. He was dead now, along with a dozen of his followers. Still, there were other Blood Raiders out there intent on taking the Neotact artifacts, which had led me to standing here at the vault of Walter Prescott, father of the famed Jagg Ransom, debating how to break in. Jagg. I shook my head as an image of his ruggedly handsome face intruded on my memories. I hadn’t seen much of him since we’d returned from Egypt. A week ago, he’d told me he was traveling. Didn’t say where. Hadn’t even texted me since. Long strands of brunette hair came loose from my ponytail and tickled my cheeks. As I pushed them away from my face, I once again attempted to concentrate on the hand scanner. Jagg Ransom was nothing but a distraction. The idea of turning around and telling King that I’d failed wasn’t a pleasant prospect. I glanced up at the glass doors barring the vault. I could always break through the glass, but I was sure every security sensor in the building would start blaring the moment I did it. No, I’d have to be creative about getting inside. I tapped my fingers on my lips, noticing the little electrical pulses popping at my skin like rubber bands. Odd that my powers were reacting this way after touching the ankh. What if my ability isn’t just different? I asked myself. What if it’s more powerful? With a deep inhale, I forced my doubts aside and placed my hand against the glass of the hand scanner. My heart raced, and I hoped the scanner couldn’t detect a person’s anxiety through its circuits. If so, I’d get fried in a heartbeat. A yellow line glowed, starting at the top and moving down. I focused on sensing the last person’s hand that had touched the screen. Closing my eyes, I paid attention to the imprint of every swirl, every arch, every loop. Then, I sent a surge of energy into my hand, morphing it until it matched each of the previously used fingerprints. I held my breath. If this didn’t work, and I got caught, I’d land in jail faster than I could blink. Please work, please work, I chanted under my breath. Sweat beaded on my brow as I stared at the scanner. Maybe it had been Jagg’s father’s hand that had been here. Maybe it had been Jagg himself. With that thought, my heart gave a sudden leap, and I could only imagine how angry Jagg Ransom would be if he knew I was breaking into his father’s prized vault. Concentrate, I reminded myself, the yellow light still scanning up and down. A single beep chimed, and the light turned green. I released a pent-up breath. The door slid open with a mechanical hiss, revealing the interior of the vault. 
GIVEAWAY! --
The Helping Heart
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- EXCERPT: “Time to burn some of those calories,” Helen called out. “Let’s get going.” Evie cast her a curious gaze. “Is there something we’re hurrying for? You should let us know, Helen.” She narrowed her eyes. “We need to get going. We’re like sitting ducks here.” Rett laughed. “We’re nobody’s target. We started early, we already did the tidal crossings, so we are not worried about tides right now, and we have time to take a break if somebody is vomiting. Really.” Helen shook her head and walked away toward the tree line. Where was that wolf? And why couldn’t her sisters take direction? Annoyed, she kept gazing into the woods, though she kept an ear tuned toward the conversations behind her. Soon enough, everybody got ready to go again, and Evie called to her. “We’re all set, Helen.” She huffed a little as she headed back, chin held high. Evie started off beside Dorie, the two easily chatting. Rett waited for Helen. “Tone it down a bit,” she advised. “Are you bitching about me, too?” Helen snapped. “Like that,” Rett said noncommittally. “Take it down a notch.” “You’re so helpful,” she sniped. “Like anybody even notices me.” “Everybody notices you.” Rett’s tone was correcting. “Especially when you’re being a royal pain in the neck. Tone it down. Nobody’s here to make a fool of you.” Helen, shocked, took the impact of those words on her chest. Nobody’s here to make a fool of you. She had nothing to say. Rett nudged her with an elbow. “Come on. Let’s make it a good day for a hike.” She nodded tightly and followed. Hiking made her brain run faster. Rett’s words rang in her memory. Nobody’s here to make a fool of you, Helen. I don’t need anyone to do that. I’ve done it myself, more than once. A lot more than once. Despite her tired body, her mind was super-charged as thoughts, memories and feelings flooded her. She couldn’t outrace them, and even the challenging terrain didn’t distract her, though after a series of switchbacks, landing at the brook felt like an accomplishment. Or at least a break from her thoughts.
GIVEAWAY! --
Savage Passion
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- EXCERPT: Cassie… Leaning against the bar is a man. A very sexy, very muscular, very dangerous looking man. Dark, shoulder length hair. Icy blue eyes. Jeans with a bulging crotch. Black T-shirt that stretches deliciously across his shoulders and chest. My heart races at the sight of him, but more so because he’s staring right at me. But then I notice he’s also wearing a goddman kutte covered with the Savage Bloods insignia. Because of course he’s part of the club. A beer bottle is pinched between his fingers, and he’s standing there like he owns this place. Cocky arrogance radiates off him, and he clearly owns that. He’s 100 percent pure male. Pure trouble. And one million percent not my type of guy. Yet, I can’t seem to stop staring at him. He’s everything Ryan isn’t, and that excites me in a way I don’t like. I don’t look away, and neither does he. There’s something familiar about him, though, and I narrow my eyes, studying him. Do I know him? That wouldn’t be so far-fetched considering I’ve met everyone in the Savage Bloods at least once before. Still, something nags at the back of my mind. “He’s staring at you,” Becca shouts over the music, jerking me from my thoughts. “You should go talk to him.” “No.” I shake my head. Turning away from his heated stare, I focus on dancing with Becca, but I can feel his gaze on me, feel the way he’s undressing me with his eyes, devouring me. Maybe Becca’s right. Maybe I need to take the plunge and go talk to him. Doing so will certainly get my mind off Ryan. But damn… I’m not sure I can handle a guy like that. He’s so hard and rough and a tad scary. Not to mention, he’s part of the club, and I swore never to get involved with that life. Just because I’m nursing a broken heart doesn’t mean I need to go catch a raging case of the stupids. And that man could make any woman stupid. 
GIVEAWAY! --
Angelbound Tales Volume 1
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- EXCERPT: Walker’s Love Connection My tail and I always get along. Until we don’t. Take now, for instance. I drive my ancient station wagon, Betsy, through the many strip malls and weedy lots that make up Purgatory. My ride is an un-pimped junker whose radio stays eternally stuck on a polka station. As ‘Roll out the Barrel’ blares from Betsy’s tinny speakers, my tail jabs my shoulder in time to the music. This is its way of saying, I’m not happy with our destination. My tail loathes trips to the Ghoul-E-Mart. “Come on,” I plead. “I promised Mom that I’d pick up milk from the Ghoul-E.” Technically, our overlords sell us something called white liquid product. Saying that I’m only getting milk makes zero difference to my tail. Right now, it’s the star of its own little play called, Poke Myla’s Shoulder. Jab, jab. “We aren’t going to the Ghoul-E right away,” I explain. “We’ll hit the arena first.” There’s only one arena in Purgatory—it’s where warriors like me fight evil souls and demons to the death. Is this an appropriate extra-curricular activity for a high school junior? Ah, no. But, that’s ghouls for you. Our overlords see their minions—meaning quasi demons like me—as the equivalent of pond scum. My tail pauses for a moment as it considers a potential arena visit. Then, it acts in a way that says, what a load of B-S. Jab, jab, jab. Clearly, my tail has trust issues. It doesn’t believe we’re going anywhere near the arena. And there are two reasons why I shouldn’t approach the gladiator games right now. First, it’s not my day to fight. Second, even when I am scheduled to go, I should only show up with my honorary older brother, a ghoul named Walker. But I have plans, people. 
GIVEAWAY! -- |
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