Riot
-- EXCERPT: I fell in love with a girl who’s way too young for me, and now that I’m eighteen, she’s my ticket to jail if I ever tried following through with any of the twisted debauchery I really want to do. When she’s eighteen though? All bets are fucking off. When the song she’s singing for me is over, I listen to her husky, alto voice trail off and close my eyes. I can’t even explain what it does to me, other than it feels kind of the same as cool aloe over a sunburn. I can’t get enough of it. The sun is setting and we’ve got to go inside. Dinner is over and curfew will set in pretty soon, so I walk her into the house and to the room she shares with Haze. “Will I get to see you tomorrow before you leave?” she asks. I shrug. “I don’t know. I’ll be leaving pretty early. Got the first shift.” She frowns, a lone tear sliding down her cheek. “I’ll wake up early to say goodbye. I really want you to have this. So, when you’re lonely, you still have a little piece of me with you.” Tayler presses her locket into my hand and my heart fucking breaks. I can’t take it. This piece of nickel and tin is her most precious possession in the world. The pictures inside are all she has left of her family after her asshole aunt sent her to rot in foster care while she took in her other, younger two siblings. I still can’t get that to make sense to me. What kind of a selfish prick would you have to be to abandon your niece because she’s ‘too old’ and take in her siblings because they’re, what, cuter? Easier to mold? I’m angry for her. It’s too late. She puts the locket in my hand and closes my fist around it, then pulls me in for another hug. “I’m going to get a job so I can have a cell phone, then we can talk at night and stuff even if we can’t see each other every day.” I nod, squeezing her hard because I know I won’t be able to see her much. Not often enough anyway. I press a kiss to the top of her head and take in the generic scent of something chemically and fruity in her hair. She might smell like all the other girls in the place, but there’s something special about the scent on her. She pulls back and looks me in the face. “I love you,” she whispers. I smile, even though those words mean something completely different to her than they do to me. She loves me like a brother, I love her like a woman. “Take care, kid,” I tell her, unable to reciprocate the words through my suddenly swollen throat. She nods, tears pooling in her eyes before they go crashing down her cheeks. I need to leave her soon, or I won’t be able to at all. Tearing myself away, I feel a legitimate piece of me going with her as I turn my back, heading straight to my shared room. The next couple years are going to be some of the hardest of my life, waiting for her. Then again, which is harder, having her but not being able to have her, or not having her at all? I lay on my bed for a few hours, watching time slip by, knowing she’s just in the other room. It would be so much easier to just curl up with her and spend my last hours cuddling, but I can’t. I fucking can’t! Four o’clock approaches and I growl, giving up on sleep. Ain’t no rest for the wicked, they say. I gather my duffel bag and the paperwork that my advocate gave me days ago, including my Social Security card and a birth certificate. Holy shit, I’m on my own. I heft my bag over my shoulder, positive that I won’t be able to last another goodbye with Tayler without breaking down and sobbing like a baby, telling her all the things I’m fucking scared of. I need to be strong for her and, right now, that means leaving. Looking at the locket that I’d kept in my hand as I laid there, unable to sleep, I press a kiss to it the same way Tayler had so many times when she was missing her family more than usual. With one last surge of strength, I drop the necklace on my pillow and turn, leaving it all behind. My future awaits me, and as scary as it is, I have to face it head-on if I’m going to make something of myself. My parents fucked up their chance at life, but I’m not going to. I’m going to work hard, make a name for myself, and eventually, I’m going to be on a stage, playing and singing for tens of thousands of people. First things first… I have to put one foot in front of the other, until I’m walking out of this group home’s front door forever.
GIVEAWAY! Whiskey with Wolves
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GIVEAWAY! Nights of Ink & Blade
-- Start with book 1 – Days of Flesh & Bone – today! -- EXCERPT: The night was restless once Killian left. As I lay in bed, sleep eluded me for what seemed like hours on end, and when I was finally able to pass out after taking one of Jasmin’s pills, the nightmare that had been haunting me ever since the encounter with the horde reappeared. There, in my dream, I could hear the wolves howling, their cries mournful, and the sound was so chilling that I felt shivers all over my body. Something primal within me stirred. An instinct, perhaps. An instinct I didn’t fully comprehend. But the call of the wolves reached out to the deepest part of my being and every nerve ending in me burned in response to it. Hot! My skin felt impossibly hot. I slapped at my wrists, then looked down. Flames—multicolored and beautiful—licked their way up to my shoulders. Desperately, I shook my hands, trying to make the fire go out but to no avail. Instead, it seemed to grow so fast that it consumed me whole. I was burning alive. I woke up with a gasp, heaving for air and choking on the smoke that didn’t exist. The first rays of dawn had already broken past the dark of night and were now peeking shyly into my room through the opening between the silly owl curtains. The light danced across the walls happily, announcing yet another sunny day. As I lay tangled in the sheets, I listened to the house waking up. First, I heard Uncle Mark getting ready for work. A little later, Sage got up and left for the bakery. As much as she hated working in place of her mother, she’d started to pick up some shifts too. Mostly because Jasmin had been out of sorts since Tabby’s death. Truth be told, Tabby’s death had affected nearly every person on the island. Some suffered quietly like my aunt and some suffered loudly like Tate Cordero. I wasn’t sure which I was. Perhaps someone in between, who preferred to keep it all inside for as long as possible and then sobbed stupidly into her boyfriend’s shirt until all the tears had run out and her vocal cords were hoarse. I’d spent way too much time in bed, I realized as I grabbed my cell from the nightstand to check the time. It was the only thing the device was good for inside the house since calls and messages didn’t seem to go through unless I ran to the shed. The thought of the shed only amplified my desire to speak to Jasmin. I’d been dragging my feet, guessing what her answers could be. You’re terrified of the truth, Nova, the voice in my head whispered. Terrified to find out the things you perhaps shouldn’t know. With determined resolve, I descended the stairs and sought out my aunt. She was stress-cooking and I was greeted by a mountain of pancakes and a pan of hash browns. My heart was hammering in my chest when I approached the table and sat down. “Good morning,” she said, not looking at me. “Well…it’s almost afternoon now.” She sighed softly and went on with her task. “Jasmin, do you think we can talk?” I slipped my hand into the front pocket of my hoodie and felt the photograph as if to make sure it was still there.
GIVEAWAY! #Book Blitz #Keepers of Time by M.N.Kinch #Fantasy #New Adult #Paranormal @Xpresso Book Tours9/5/2024
Keepers of Time
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Kobo -- EXCERPT: Typing sentence by labored sentence, I nibble at my scone as I flip through my notes. I startle slightly when a pair of hands places a mug of steaming tea on my table, a woman’s hands with the same olive skin as the two people behind the counter. I assume it was the girl who was making my tea. “Oh,” I gasp. “Thank you…” I look up and forget what I was about to say. It’s a different girl, mid-twenties maybe, perhaps a year or two younger than me, dripping wet, with silvery hair that falls just past her shoulders. She wears a soaked blue apron over a sleeveless flowered dress that’s thin and faded. How is she not freezing? Her lips part slightly, giving her a dazed look. My breath catches in my throat. She has the lightest blue eyes I’ve ever seen, almost the pale silver color of her hair. They stand out like shining stars against her olive skin. At first I wonder if she’s blind, but her eyes focus on me for a split second and she smiles softly before her pupils slide away from mine, looking right past me. Through me. Without a word, the girl turns and drifts away, arms limp at her sides, dripping a trail of water behind her. This must be Luna, the girl the guy was so grumpy about. I shrug it off and get back to work, taking my time with the tea and scone. The scone is amazing. I look up at the guy in the kitchen, who’s wiping down the counters, wondering if he bakes all the cafe’s pastries and if they’re all as good as this. I could eat here every day. Gabby, the girl from the register, carries a stack of trays past him and says something that makes him roll his eyes, but he smiles. The corners of his dark eyes crinkle. He hasn’t had a shave in a while and his nose is a little pointy, but the effect isn’t at all unpleasant. Stop getting distracted, Joan. Work. NASA. Move it. I drop my eyes back to my screen and drag out another sentence. My silver charm bracelet clinks on the keyboard, the tiny sun, moon, star, and rocket charms tinkling as I type. Eventually, I’m the only one left in the cafe. I’m not sure what time they close, but I get the feeling I should pack up. I finish the last sip of now-cold tea, leaving the dregs in the bottom, before closing my laptop and slipping it into my bag. When I straighten, my heart jumps into my throat. The silver-haired girl stands by my table, holding my plate and empty mug. “Holy sh—” I exclaim, then stop myself. I hadn’t even heard her coming. This girl has a gift for sneaking up on people. “Um, thank you,” I mumble, shrugging into my coat and swinging my computer bag over my shoulder. She doesn’t answer, but stares down into my mug, frowning. Suddenly, I’m very uncomfortable. “Thanks,” I say again. I stand and move around her to get to the door. I look back just before I step outside. This time, she looks straight at me, eyes wide, gripping the mug so hard her knuckles are white. My stomach churns. I yank on my hood and step into the rain. Shivering in my coat, I stride down the street to the bus stop, wishing I’d brought gloves. It’s almost May. Shouldn’t it be warming up soon? I reach into my pocket for my bus pass when I hear the screech of car tires behind me. I don’t have time to turn or scream. Then, the world is still. GIVEAWAY! Another Side of the Heart
-- EXCERPT: Outside a mourning dove cries in its new nest in the birch tree, at the same time a small fishing boat on the bay glides by. Before washing my hands, I remove my wedding band, put it on a saucer, and think of Mark, wondering where he is. Though I’m a little lonely, I don’t want him here. I think of the other night and seeing Antonio at his house. I know I’ve never felt the same feelings with Mark that I had with Antonio. I don’t remember feelings of wanting him badly to be with me. Did I trade true love for comfort? Being with Mark has meant there’d always be safety, certainty, and security for me. But as Patsy said, Mark himself has not been a constant for me. He’s a man prone toward selfishness, a man not understanding of his partner’s essential nature. He has tried, but what that’s meant is giving me more things to replace the intangible cravings I’ve had: to be seen, heard, listened to. I can’t say for sure what my life with Antonio might have been. But I can remember like yesterday the yearnings I had for him, those of both purity and lust. Someone knocks at the door. “Carmen, the door’s open. Come in.” Karma, wagging her tail, runs from the kitchen to our visitor, whining happily. “Carmen?” I yell from the kitchen while chopping a banana. “I’m in the kitchen making a fruit salad. The hammer’s on the table. And thank you for the string beans.” The footsteps come closer, then stop. “It’s not Carmen.” I turn, see the dark-and-silver-hair. The square jaw. The unmistakable dimples. It’s Antonio. He wears faded jean, a black cotton T-shirt, scuffed black work boots. “I heard you say to come in … I hope you don’t mind.” Karma sniffs his boots, licks his fingertips. He smiles broadly, points at the knife I’m holding. “Or maybe I shouldn’t have. You’re not going to rush at me with that, are you?” I look down. My knife is aimed at him. “No, no. I was making a … I thought you were my neighbor …” The words fade. I lay the knife on the cutting board, wipe my hands with the dish towel. His eyes melt my being. He takes an easy step toward me and nods in a familiar way, a primitive way, pulling me in like the moon pulls the sea. He studies me, missing little and holds up a clipboard. He wears a watch with a black complex face and black leather band. “I told you I’d send someone over to take a look at your house.” In one swoop, he examines the cottage. “My house?” I ask. He bites his lip. “You said you need some repairs?” “Oh right,” I say, heat rising in my neck. “My crews are all over town,” he says. “So you get the boss today. Wanna show me around?” “Sure.” He follows me to the front door. I hold it open, giving him unsaid permission to exit first.When he steps over the threshold, the skin of his forearm skims my shoulder. His movements, even and fluid, arouse me. I watch the braid of back muscles tighten when he descends under the house searching for the cause of a water stain. Later, I walk him to the door, and i can tell that he, too, is feeling unsure what to do next. He follows up with a half hug, and then, “Are you going to the Fourth of July bonfire at the vineyard?” I feel flutters. “I saw their flier, but haven’t thought about it, but yes, I’ll go.” “Good. See you there. And I’ll be in touch about your house.” I satay at the door and watch him step into his truck. My heart races as he leaves.
GIVEAWAY! Refuge from the World
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- EXCERPT: Ash fell into step next to Caleb without talking. They had known each other for so long that they could be together without saying a word, and it didn’t feel awkward. When they reached the lake, they sat down on one of the large boulders scattered around the shore and stared out at the water. “The lake level goes down a little more each year,” Caleb said. “I’ve noticed. It used to be up to that cluster of rocks over there when we would go fishing when we were younger.” “Rain isn’t enough to keep it full. The last time I remember seeing snow up here was when I was seven, and it didn’t stick around. Seems kind of ironic that so much of the planet is flooded, yet many worry about having enough fresh water to drink and to irrigate crops.” “Why did we stop fishing?” Ash asked. “I didn’t stop fishing. I still go fishing at least once a week. When you started taking a more active role in the beekeeping and tree nursery, you were available less and less. I go first thing in the morning, and that’s when you and your mom do most of your work.” “I miss going fishing with you. I’ll see if Mom cares if we change around the schedule a bit unless you don’t want me tagging along like I did when I was younger.” “I miss it too. I would love for you to tag along even though you always out-fished me.” He put his arm around her and pulled her close. Ash laid her head on his shoulder and stared out at the lake. They sat like this sometimes, not as much as they used to, and she missed this too. She loved the feel of his arm around her and the warmth of his body next to hers, but never read too much into the gesture. Today, especially, she was in no hurry to break the connection. “Are you going to the community meeting tonight?” he asked, finally breaking the silence. “Yes. I keep getting these unsettling feelings, and I hope to find out if it’s just my imagination or if there is something I should be worried about. First, I find out you’ve been tasked with building weapons, then I had an odd conversation with your dad, found out we’re having an off-cycle community meeting, and all of a sudden Mom is all over me about marrying Tyler Hewitt.” “What!” Caleb shouted as he scooted away and turned his body to face her. “You’re not seriously considering marrying that old man, are you?” “No, but apparently, they’ve talked about it. I pointed out to Mom that he’s eleven years younger than she, but eighteen years older than me. In Tyler’s defense, I can only think of a couple of other eligible women between his age and mine.” “He has no defense. For him to even be thinking about it, is wrong. When he moved here, you were what? Three? Four? Why now?” “I think Mom is worried about getting old and leaving me alone. I don’t think she’s been feeling well, but I don’t know if it’s anything serious.” Caleb stood up and paced. Ash watched him, confused by his reaction. “I don’t plan to marry Tyler or anyone else not of my choosing. But, I’m not sure why you would care anyway since you’ve got eyes on Evelyn.” “Where’d you hear that?” “Apparently, her mother has been telling people that you two have been spending time together.” “That’s not true. She tagged along when I was delivering deer meat the other day to the storehouse, but that was it. I most certainly didn’t ask her to come with me, and all she did was ask me questions about Dillon. Besides, she’s just a girl.” Ash chuckled. “If people are happy to pawn me off on a man eighteen years older, a mere four years between you and Evelyn is nothing.” She watched as Caleb retreated to the water’s edge. He picked up a flat stone and skipped it across its glassy surface. Ash walked to his side and stood next to him. “We’d better get back. The meeting starts in a couple of hours, and I should help Mom with dinner,” Ash said as she turned to leave. Caleb grabbed her arm and pulled her back until she was facing him. “Let’s hear what they have to say tonight. If there is some reason why everyone needs to get married, you’re marrying me.” “And, what if there is no need?” she asked softly. “Well, maybe we should anyway.”
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