The Right Kind of Unexpected
-- EXCERPT: I rush to the bathroom at the side of the building and lock the door behind me. I can’t deal with this anymore. I grip the sides of the pedestal sink and drop my head, breathing deep. In, out, in, out, fighting for calm. Why? Why did I think this was a good idea? Three days ago, Dax and I were on our way to a gallery opening when I mentioned I’d never been to Disney World. He said he hadn’t either. I commented on how it would be fun to jump in the car and go. High school graduation was over, my parents were in Europe, I didn’t have any plans for the summer, so the next afternoon we were on the road. Bad idea. Horrible. The worst. I lift my sunglasses to the top of my head and startle at the red-rimmed, brown-eyed zombie staring back at me. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since we left, and I forgot to take my makeup off last night, then Dax was in such a hurry this morning. Maybe our relationship was always a mess. I don’t know. We’ve only been together for six months. In New York, Dax and I got along great. There were parties, restaurants, people, and places to fill our time. Now, without the distractions and being stuck together in mostly confined spaces, I realize we don’t have as much in common as I thought. But it’s more than that. He needs to be right about everything and nags me until I concede to his views. I never noticed him doing that before. There are a lot of things I didn’t notice before. I use a little soap and water on a paper towel and clean the black smears from around my eyes. It cleans the makeup off perfectly, but the dark circles and puffiness remain. I slide a hair elastic from around my wrist and pull my brown mop of humid-induced frizz into a messy bun. With a deep sigh, I slide my glasses back over my eyes and push the door open into the bright sunlight. I take in the beautiful field dotted with wildflowers behind the gas station, then close my eyes and lift my face to the sun, disregarding the intensity on my pale skin. I breathe in the fragrant smell of green that only a sweltering heat can produce. It’s time to put an end to this impromptu adventure. It ceased being fun after the first five hours. And it’s my car, my time, my money. With renewed strength, I turn on my heels, ready to confront Dax and get my car keys back. I’m heading home with or without my soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend. I can drop him off at a bus station if he wants to continue the trip. I round the corner of the building. Wait, what? Where is it? I walk to the two ancient gas pumps and turn in a circle, taking in the white building with peeling paint, and everything else in the three-hundred-and-sixty-degree radius, but the car is nowhere in sight. I walk to the other side of the building, thinking he might have parked in a different location while getting something from inside, but the car isn’t there either.
GIVEAWAY! Monterey King
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- EXCERPT: But sharing the conference table with the hotel’s Managing Director, Cameron Taylor, who she hadn’t set eyes on since he’d dumped her thirteen years ago? Yeah, that explained why her pulse pounded in her temples like the massive surf crashing on the nearby Monterey shore. She paused in front of the closed conference room door, taking a moment to gather her composure. “The door isn’t locked.” An unmistakable voice rasped from beside her. She spun around and her throat tightened the moment her eyes locked with Cameron Taylor’s arctic blue gaze. How could someone look so familiar yet like a stranger? Lucy studied his lean, angular face. His strong, slightly crooked nose was the same, as was the determined squareness of his jawline. Small lines fanned out from his arresting eyes and grooves bracketed his chiseled mouth, which was pressed into a firm line. His posture was ramrod straight––even more rigid after a dozen years serving overseas in the Army. “Cam.” How many times had she imagined what she’d say if she ever saw him again? How many impassioned speeches had she rehearsed before moving on with her life? He inclined his head. “Hi, Lucy.” His crisp tone was as remote as his stony expression. The voice of an acquaintance––not the man she’d shared the love of a lifetime with until he’d broken her heart. Through impeccable self-control, if she did say so herself, she forced her lips to curve upward. “So… how are you?” Awkward, but it was the best she had to offer. She hadn’t expected to encounter him one-on-one, at least not yet. “Fine, but we should go in. Ryan and Charlie are waiting.” Cam reached for the mahogany wooden door’s carved brass handle at the same time she did. His long, blunt fingers brushed hers. A flash of heat sparked up her arm and she snatched her hand back. Muscle memory? Of course, Mr. Poker Face didn’t flinch as he pushed the large door open. Bright light flooded the conference room and bathed the expansive space in a golden glow. Lucy blinked. January on the Monterey coastline wasn’t celebrated for clear blue skies, but the cloudy gray morning had cleared, and rays of sunshine exposed the rugged Pacific coastline beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows.
GIVEAWAY! Mates: Minerva
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play -- EXCERPT: Most mistakes in life are no big deal, even the big ones. After an apology, restitution, and a little time or training, eventually everything is fine. But occasionally, a tiny error can land you in hot water. Or boiling water, in my case. Three months ago, while trying to apprehend a vampire who was feeding on blitzed people in a hot tub on the rooftop of a residential building, one of my spells misfired. Instead of a freeze spell, I let off a heat flash. . .and everyone in the hot tub boiled like lobsters. Thanks to a few strong potions, everyone survived, and were mostly fine within 48 hours, but the vampire I was trying to arrest, well. He was the son of their Sublime Chancellor. Yeah, it’s a really stupid name. Magical organizations are kind of famous for those. But vampires vote as a bloc, and the New York Paranormal Affairs Chief is an elected position. So when his daddy called my boss, Chief Lumos had to do something. I’ve been on probation ever since, and let me tell you, having to take remedial magic courses really sucks. Usually magic is fun—spell casting, potions, circles, wards, I like most all of it. But getting sent to remedial magic class is like a plumber being sentenced to spend three months unclogging toilets. Boring, embarrassing, and it stinks. If I’m being honest, the class hasn’t even really fixed my problem. My magic has been erratic and unreliable since I was a baby. These classes may have helped me learn how to mask my failures more effectively, but I’m pretty sure the real reason I was finally cleared is that my instructors got sick of me. Until I’m cleared, I have to earn my paycheck somehow. Which is how I got stuck as the NYPAD liaison to initiates from the human world. In general, the sharpest crayons are not assigned to coordinate departments. “You’re saying that there are cops out there running around who are actual vampires?” The chunky man with ruddy cheeks leans back in his chair, his disbelief palpable. There’s an art to explaining the supernatural world to people who only know about parodies, like Twilight or Interview with a Vampire. I usually start with vampires, because most humans want to believe they exist. It makes for an easier transition. But sometimes, like with this guy, it’s better to just rip the Band-Aid off. “I think I got ahead of myself.” I sigh. “A war has been waged for more than a thousand years.” “A war has been waged? Isn’t that a little melodramatic?” He looks around the room. “Are you recording the introduction to Star Wars here?” Do not smack the fat, rude human, Minerva, not when you’re already in trouble. “This is real.” I cross my arms, expecting another interruption. He, miraculously, stays quiet. “The akero, embodiment of all that is light and good, and the daimoni, the epitome of all that is dark and evil, have clashed over and over and over. You’d think they’d have realized the futility of it, but they never did. It’s like an epically bad marriage, where the husband and wife are both taking out life insurance policies and making plans.” Officer Stevens drops the front feet of his chair back to the ground. “Wait, are you actually serious about this?” I pull out the laminated photos of the akero, who look like the most gorgeous angels you could imagine, and drop them on the plastic card table in front of him. “I’m not a stand-up comedian.” He splays the cards out and hunches over them, finally stopping to stare at the most predictable card, the image of Raguel, the akero who embodies joy. The priestess who snapped the photo managed to catch a shot where she has her arms raised, her face upturned toward the Northern Lights, her expression rapturous. It’s a moving photo. I’ve seen grown men cry while looking at it. Not Officer Derpey here, but you know, emotionally intelligent ones. “You’re saying the angels and demons are here? On Earth?” “I haven’t explained that part yet.” He’s wrecking the rhythm of this, and that kind of thing matters with stories. “Their most epic battles happened in many different places. They’re so evenly matched that neither side could gain any advantage. It was sort of like two kids leveling each others’ sand castles, over and over and over.” “Sand castles?” Mental note: analogies are wasted on Officer Derpey. “Something shattered the delicate balance between light and dark, and neither of them will fess up to what that was.” “Something?” “That’s when the angel Gabriel, their leader, directed the akero to flee for the first time. And of course, the daimoni have doggedly pursued them ever since.”
GIVEAWAY! Into the Lion’s Den
Only 99 cents for a limited time! -- EXCERPT: A growl rumbled through the air, coming from outside the barn wall. An icy trickle of fear slid through my veins, and the hair on my arms stood at attention, even under the warmth of my sweater. I held my breath as paralysis locked my legs. I had to be imagining it. But the growl rumbled through the wall again, low and ominous. “Please, go away,” I whispered to whatever was out there. “Please, go away.” Wild animals were supposed to shy away from humans, right? It wouldn’t come near me unless it was provoked. And I hadn’t done anything to provoke it. Unless… Unless it called this abandoned barn its home? Shit. I needed to get out of here. But I was too afraid to move. And even if I could run, that might only make things worse. Slowly, I pulled my phone from my pocket and hit Reese’s number. After our argument and my declaration that I didn’t need his help, this call would be humbling. He’d probably call me a city girl and tell me I didn’t belong up here. But at least he’d have the necessary information to later find my body. Reese didn’t pick up. Instead, I got his voicemail. When I heard the beep, I closed my eyes and whispered, “Reese. Help. I’m in an old barn not far from the lodge.” A low, menacing growl responded from just outside, and through the cracks in the barn wall I could see a large tawny animal prowling along the exterior. I whimpered, walking backward toward the farthest right corner of the barn. My shoulder ran into a prickly bale of straw. There were two stacked on top of each other, and I ran around behind them, crouching low. I sat with my back to the bales, facing the rear wall of the barn and drawing my knees to my chest. I wrapped my arms around my legs and said a little prayer. But it was too little too late. The animal was inside the barn. Its rumbling growl was louder now, and I felt rather than heard the whispery vibration of large paws slowly stalking across the wooden floor. Sunlight streamed through the open barn door and projected the shadow of an enormous mountain lion against the back wall. Perhaps the shadow was distorted, but it looked to be unnaturally large—maybe four feet high at the shoulder. Its tail twitched, and it turned its head in my direction. Oh god. I closed my eyes and laced my hands behind my head, curling into an even tighter ball. More soft footfalls. It was now on the opposite side of my hiding place, and it rubbed the length of its body against the bales of straw, putting a heavy pressure against my back. I squeezed my eyes closed as I sensed it round the end of the barrier, then the beast’s breath brushed against my cheek. My whole body trembled and I swallowed my scream as a warm tongue rasped the length of my neck.
GIVEAWAY! #Book Blitz #Bewitched by a Vampire by Felicity Heaton (Eternal Mates,21) #Paranormal Romance14/6/2022
Bewitched by a Vampire
-- EXCERPT: Lilian smiled victoriously, anger flowing from her in palpable waves that rocked him as much as her words had, but there was hurt and fear laced within it. “You didn’t know your brother was into taking humans against their will?” she barked and he held his tongue, not wanting to damn his brother, even when the proof of Bastian’s crime was right before him. She shook her head, causing the glossy dark waves of her hair to brush across the shoulders of her plain black dress. “I can see it, Night. You didn’t know. If you had—” “It’s none of my business,” he growled and turned to leave. Her hand on his arm stopped him. Despite the sleeve of his jacket and his shirt that separated them, his skin burned where she held him, the thrill of her touch ripping at his fragile control and flooding him with a need to turn and gather her into his arms. His bloodlust rose, pushing to the fore as his focus narrowed to the point where she gripped him, to how close she was behind him. He dragged down a sharp breath, catching her scent. A torment. His face twisted as he screwed his eyes shut, trying to shut out the urges running rampant through him, denying the one that pushed to the front, shoving all the others aside. It wouldn’t be wrong of him to kiss her. Bastian didn’t have any claim on her. She didn’t want to belong to his brother. Would she want to belong to him? Not in the way Bastian had wanted to claim her, but in another way. He swallowed hard and fought back against his feelings, refusing to let them control him. It was lust. That was all. Lilian was beautiful and spirited, and he wanted to break her and claim her as his prize. It was just another hunt. So why did it feel as if his entire life hinged on the next few seconds?
GIVEAWAY! Discordant Memories
-- EXCERPT: I opened my eyes slowly, but as I reached up to scratch an itch on my forehead, pain shot through my side before my hand connected with whatever was stuck to my forehead. A bandage? I tried to sit up to shake off the weird dream I was having, but every muscle in my body protested. Pain shot through my ribs. Something was wrong. I blinked the sleep out of my eyes and realized I was not at home. I was in a hospital bed. “Help!” I shouted. Was I still dreaming? I called out weakly a couple more times before a nurse rushed in. “You’re awake!” she said, helping me sit up. “Can you tell me your name?” “What’s going on? What happened?” “You were in a car accident. You are at Nashville General Hospital. Please tell me your name.” An accident? The scene that played out so many times in my dreams began to have clarity. The sounds and the glass. It must have been a roll-over. “Nashville? When did I come to Nashville? Oh God, my Chevelle!” The only possession I actually cared about was the car my dad had given me before he passed away. I didn’t know what I would do if it was totaled. I put my head in my hands to clear my thoughts and try to focus. The nurse rolled the computer cart up to my bed and started typing. She wasn’t exactly cold, but she didn’t offer much sympathy either. She let out an exasperated sigh. “Can you please verify your name so we can see how you’re doing?” How was she so calm when I was falling apart? “Catrina Banks. Please, tell me what happened.” “I’ve sent for the doctor; he can tell you more when he arrives.” “Is there anything you can tell me? How long have I been here?” I tried to keep my voice calm, but it was difficult. She ignored my question and checked my vitals, then asked me to tell her where I was on the silly little pain-scale poster that hung on the wall. I told her it was a mix between the regular sad face and the crying face. She gave me no additional information. When the doctor finally came in, she gave me a pitiful look and rolled her computer cart off to the corner of the room. “Catrina, your accident happened a day and a half ago. You suffered a brain contusion and have been in and out of consciousness since then. The ribs on the right side of your body are bruised and you have some additional bruising in places we rarely see in these types of accidents. Do you remember anything before or after the accident?” I shook my head as I rubbed my hand against my ribs. Now I knew why breathing was so uncomfortable. “I don’t remember even leaving my house. Maybe something inside the car hit me?” He wrote something down on my chart and clicked his pen a few times, clearly thinking about something he didn’t want to tell me yet. “You’ve been getting a lot of rest, which is good, but you have been regressing every time you fall asleep. We aren’t sure how long it will continue, or if you’ll even remember this conversation later.” The way he spoke led me to believe it wasn’t the first time he had told me this. He paused, giving me a chance to interject, but I had nothing to say. “Do you know what today’s date is?” “April 10th,” I blurted without even thinking. Another one of those pitiful looks came my way, but this time it was from Dr. Parker. The room was silent for a few moments except for the sound of the nurse typing away on her computer. The doctor clicked his pen three more times before replying, “Actually, it’s October 15th. I’m afraid you have some time missing.” Six. Months. How the hell was I missing six months of my life?
GIVEAWAY! Dare to Call Me Vampire
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play --
GIVEAWAY! #Book Blitz #The Second Time Around by Kelly Collins #Contemporary Romance @Xpresso Book Tours13/6/2022
The Second Time Around
-- EXCERPT: She leaned on the suitcase. Even in the moonlight, and despite her frown, she still had the most beautiful blue eyes. Eyes as blue as the bay. The Texas coast wasn’t known for its clear waters. It didn’t have the blue of the Caribbean, but the way the reef protected the shore gave it a unique environment, and it had the bluest water. He’d forgotten how he’d thought of the bay as Brie blue, and paired with her chestnut hair, she was one of the prettiest girls in Texas. He started back to the porch and his beer, but he caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye, trying to stand. She stumbled over the suitcase and fell on top of it. He raced toward her. “How much of that bottle did you drink?” She looked at it and shrugged. “Not sure. Four or five.” “Four or five what? Sips? Gulps? Gallons?” She rose and tottered back and forth. Her back end was high in the air. All these years later, she still had the finest derriere he’d ever seen. “Let me help before you hurt yourself.” She wagged a finger behind her. “Stay away from me.” She shifted and grunted and righted her suitcase, only to lose her balance again. This time she landed on top of it like it was a lounger. She squeaked, then smiled and let out an “Oh, this isn’t so bad.” She opened the bottle for another drink. “Is that wise?” “What do you care?” She laid back and looked up at the twinkling lights of the willow tree. “Did you know when I woke that morning, Mama got me ready? She used an entire can of Aqua Net. I smelled like Ms. Cricket but looked like Miss America.” She ran her hands through her hair and sighed. “I had the prettiest braids going in every direction, but they all came together in the back.” The whiskey bottle fell into the sand, which was probably a good thing. “So pretty.” “You were always beautiful, Brie.” “Oh, what would you know? You didn’t even show up.” She blindly searched around for the bottle but gave up quickly. He sat a few feet away from her. He had a lot to say, but all he’d do was listen. “You know what the funniest thing of all was?” “Tell me.” He scooped up sand and let it sift through his fingers. It kind of felt like how life was. It just got away from you. “Mama wanted me to wear those fancy jeweled shoes. Those heels were four inches high and pinched my toes. I’m telling you, she had me practicing for days, and I was in pure agony. I refused to wear them and hid them at Tiff’s house, because I knew with the humidity, my feet would swell, and I wanted to dance under this tree with you. I didn’t want to have achy feet on my wedding day, so I bedazzled my Keds. I had the perfect shoes for running, and I wasn’t the one who ran.” She turned on her side, showing her back to him. He thought about how he’d apologize. He wasn’t sure what she knew or didn’t know. It had been so long, and both her parents were gone. Did she know her mother had been unfaithful? Did she believe until their dying days that they’d been hopelessly devoted to one another? Her father had died of a heart attack on a yacht filled with half-naked drunk coeds. Though he’d been gone, gossip traveled fast, and he’d gotten the condensed version every time his mother talked to someone from town. “Look, Brie, I did what I did for a lot of reasons, but mostly it was to spare you pain and embarrassment.” “Mm-hm.” This was going far better than expected. “I’m sorry for hurting you, but if you’d known what I did, you would have been hurt so much more. I was a coward for many reasons. I should have stayed and let the grenade explode. At least then, maybe we could have worked it out, but I didn’t have the maturity to face them or you.” A loud sound startled him, and he scooted closer. “Brie.” He reached out and touched her leg, only to realize she was snoring.
GIVEAWAY! Blood On His Lips
-- EXCERPT: A time or two in my past, I’d had to accept a significant wound in order to walk away from a fight with my life. So I’d walk this edge with Renaud, and take the cuts that came from playing this particular game with an Old One, but my blood wouldn’t be the only blood spilled. The wildness that had risen in me to fight off the invader rose again. I angled his head and took his mouth. His lips parted, and I slipped my tongue between, beginning a slow duel that morphed into something frenzied. His hands slid up my torso, and he cupped my breasts. I let him play, and each time he tried to control the kiss, I punished him. My grip in his hair wasn’t gentle. My nails pricked his scalp. My teeth scraped his lips. I drew blood, felt pain as he returned the loving gesture in kind, with interest. Damn. I hadn’t meant to draw blood. Renaud pulled his head away from me, his eyes flashing purple for one preternatural second. I blinked, but perhaps I was imagining it. “What are you offering?” The words were guttural. Blood stained his lips, and as I watched he licked it away, the movement slow, sensual. Taunting. Definitely warning. We both knew this particular game was above my skill level—for now. I was a quick study when I wanted to be. But I couldn’t peel my gaze away from those lips, the stain of crimson. I wanted more. His taste on my tongue, his breath in my lungs. Leaning forward, I intended to take more of him, but his hands left my breasts, and he halted me with a firm grip on my jaw.
GIVEAWAY! Change for Lakewood Med
-- EXCERPT: Grant shifts his gaze back to me, and as our eyes meet, I become extremely aware of how closely Grant and I have been sitting to one another while we’ve been filming. Every ounce of me is drawn to him, yet in what has become a well-practiced move over the years, I make myself lean back to put more space between us. Grant blinks a time or two, and then he pushes away from the table. Getting to his feet, he twists his torso to stretch. “Anyway, it’s a good thing you’re such a natural teacher when it comes to medical topics, El. You’re great with this type of thing. The video would bomb if I was the only one doing the teaching.” I’m about to disagree with him when Grant’s shirt rises slightly while he continues stretching, giving me an unexpected glimpse of his abs. His profoundly well-defined, chiseled abs. I gulp. My eyes get wide as I stare, and my respirations get kind of shallow. Holy smokes. I knew Grant was extremely fit, but . . . Holy, holy smokes. I look the other way, resisting the urge to fan air past my face.
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