|
Year of the Fledgling
-- EXCERPT: She pounded on the thick door as hard and loudly as she could. When it began to open and she had her first look at his face again—his features a mask of puzzled bewilderment—the terrible pressure in her chest finally released in a flood, and it all seemed to spill right out of her mouth. “Wha…?” he started to ask. But the flood had already hit her. “I am beyond vexed with you,” she seethed, flinging off her hood so he could see the full extent of her rage before she pushed past him to enter the watchtower. Theron glanced out into the darkening evening as if to make sure she didn’t have anyone else with her, then he shut the door and turned, lifting his eyebrows sternly. “Please tell me you did not walk up here by yourself.” Ignoring his question, she demanded, “Honestly, how could you do this to me?” “Are you absolutely mad?” he challenged right back, just as upset as she, and stormed forward. “What were you thinking? If someone had seen you—” “They would’ve shrugged me off as you! But no one saw me. And I was thinking about how mad I am,” she railed, lifting her chin to meet his swirling, livid gaze. Theron scoffed. “Yes, I can tell you’re unhappy, but that gives you no right to put your very livelihood at stake to come up here and tell me thus.” “It’s my livelihood to worry about, and my right to risk it as I please.” “And you are one of two people left in this entire, bleeding world that I’m allowed to still talk to. So I refuse to let you be so frivolous with your—” “Argh!” she shrieked, lifting her hands and curling her fingers as if to display her claws at him. “You are so maddening.” One of his eyebrows arched, then he burst out grinning. “But am I maddening enough for you to want to kiss me senseless again? Please say yes.” She snorted. “Hardly. You’re certainly maddening enough to make me want to wring your fool neck as hard as I can, though.” Lifting his chin to put his neck on full display, Theron countered, “Well, take your best shot, little healer-in-training. But first, would you at least tell me what I did wrong this time that made you so mad? A fellow appreciates at least knowing why he’s being strangled.” Xia sucked in an irate breath. Then her chin trembled. And finally, the tears that she’d been holding back all the way from Norbin’s pig pen came gushing down her cheeks. “You made me care for you!” she accused, weeping so soundly that her entire body shuddered and she had to cover her mouth with both hands to contain it. 
GIVEAWAY! --
The Ring Academy: The Trials of Imogene Sol
-- EXCERPT: Imogene raced across the room to grab the bo staff leaning against the wall, her opponent just steps behind her. The zip of his staff buzzed the air near her head as she ducked, rolled across the mat, and grabbed the weapon she needed from the holder. She turned and crouched with her back to the wall, wielding her staff to block her attacker. The clack of his weapon against hers vibrated up her arm through her elbow, jarring her teeth, but she ignored the discomfort—she was used to it—and shot forward. “That’s all you’ve got?” She smirked at her opponent. Vempur growled, showing his sharp incisors. His stark, black hair curled against his umber-toned temple slick with sweat as he followed it up by stabbing the end of the staff toward her face. His eyes, usually green flecked with sparkles of gold, turned completely black as he swung. She blocked and went for a jab. Vempur parried, then swung the staff at her head, once more with a loud grunt and frustrated huff. “You’re too quick,” he snapped. Imogene smiled at her best friend but subdued the laugh. She knew he wouldn’t take it well in the middle of a fight. Not with everyone watching. Their silent, judgmental gazes were enough of a deterrent to keep Vempur’s temper in check. Besides, she wouldn’t have appreciated his humor at the moment either. There was too much on the line. “You’re stronger. Taller,” she grunted out as she ducked once more. It wasn’t to feed his ego. “Find my weakness.” “What weakness?” he snapped, frustrated more with himself than her, it would seem. “You haven’t lost yet today.” “Exactly. I’m tired.” Vempur growled, surging forward. But she couldn’t afford to lose and that was the difference. She rocked back, arching as the staff narrowly missed her gut, then swung her stick out to catch Vempur’s feet. He jumped and brought his bow down to the mat barely missing her back as she rolled out from under his strike. “Stars!” Halo Mins—their instructor—yelled across the sparring room. “It shouldn’t look like a dance. It should look like a fight!” Several of the other Year Sevens in the room snickered, and she knew it was at their expense. “Shit,” Imogene swore, resetting as she hopped away. “He’s going to knock me down.” “He won’t. He can’t.” Vempur punched out, and Imogene blocked the weapon. They pushed against one another and locked, resting for a beat. “You’ve dominated everyone today.” “Not everyone.” She pushed, using her momentum to twist and swing, the pole wide, catching Vempur’s ankles. His giant frame slammed against the mat, and she went in for the kill, feigning a stab into his throat. Vempur opened his hands against his bow staff in supplication and frowned. “Everyone knows you belong on the leaderboard, Imogene.” 
GIVEAWAY! --
Yoga One For Me
Get it FREE on Kindle Unlimited! -- EXCERPT: I put down the yoga mat and check the fridge. It’s fully stocked with enough food to feed a football team. Raine went all out, and I only left her some bags to dump in the Crockpot. I owe her big time. My mouth waters as I rifle through the contents of the fridge. I’m going to double my weight if I try to eat all of this before it goes bad. Most of it will end up in the freezer. As my stomach roars, I make myself a plate of food and fill a glass with iced tea. Then I head for the dining room, my mouth watering. I round the corner and crash into something. No, someone. A very tall and very muscular someone. His eyes widen as my food smashes against his white button-down shirt and my black iced tea runs down his khaki pants, making it look like he wet himself. Maybe he did — I can be scary. I scream. Smack his side with my plate. He’s surprisingly solid. “Get out!” He backs up, holding out his hands. “Me? I live here. You get out!” My pulse thrums in my ears. “No, I do. This is my house for the summer.” “Says who?” He pulls mashed potatoes from his shirt and flops them onto my plate. His wavy, dirty-blonde hair blocks his face, and he brushes it aside getting food in it. I get lost in his eyes for a moment. Until I remember that he’s an intruder, and my life is in danger. “Leave! Before I call the police.” “Did you catch the part about me living here?” I throw the potatoes back at him. “I don’t know who you are, but Raine said I’d have this house to myself.” He’s really hot. Maybe he’s one of the guys she’s seeing, and he doesn’t realize she’s in Nevada. That makes sense. But why would he think he lives here? “Where’s she?” “If you live here, you should know.” I fold my arms. He tilts his head, and while he looks menacing he also takes my breath away. “I don’t keep track of where my sister is.” His sister? He’s Raine’s brother. Crap. He really does have every right to be here. Though we’ve never met, now I recognize him from the pictures I’ve seen over the years. He’s even taller and more gorgeous in person. It takes me a moment to find my voice. “You’re Rake.” “In the flesh.” “You still have to leave. This isn’t part of my contract with Raine.” There is no contract. At least not on paper. But she did promise me the house to myself. That’s like a contract. In a way. Fine, it’s a stretch. But I’m going with it. Rake’s brows furrow. “Leave? I need to shower, thanks to you.” “After that, you can go.” I storm to my room, taking my useless plate of squished food with me. I’ve lost my appetite anyway.
GIVEAWAY! --
The Widow Queen and her Lover
-- EXCERPT: Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Gaspar saw movement. It was a woman coming up the steps from the rooms below in the castle. She’d heard the singing and wanted to see who was chanting. Monks? Townsfolk? Jongleurs? She didn’t look scared, and Gaspar recognised her immediately. It was the young and beautiful Catherine of Valois, only eighteen and the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. Tall, majestic, regal, yet happy in her life, friendly, open, and warm … the very opposite of the mad father and especially the cold cow of a mother. God knows how she could be so happy and cheerful when she had a mother like that woman down below, that Bavarian bitch and a lunatic for a father.
GIVEAWAY! -- #Book Blitz #A Viscount for the Spinster by Samantha Holt #Historical Romance @Xpresso Book Tours30/7/2023
A Viscount for the Spinster
-- EXCERPT: The fierce beat of Apollo’s heart thudded against her palm. Warmth seeped into her fingertips and left her breathless. She glanced briefly to the side, spying the tile embedded inches into the ground. That could have been her. She met Apollo’s gaze, his pupils dark. His breaths were ragged and whispered through her hair. She smelled sweetness on his breath for a moment until it gave way to a soapy fragrance that wrapped about her. His arms framed her against the wall, a protective cocoon that should have slowed the pounding of her pulse. But he was so close. Inches away. And he was so warm. Her fingers remained splayed upon his chest. She couldn’t move them even if she wanted to. And she didn’t. The firmness of his chest and thump, thump of his heart eased away the breathlessness and brought her back to the world. A breeze tousled her hair, sending a curl tickling around her neck. Somewhere in the village a baby cried. And the tingle of awareness that came with touching Apollo continued, rippling through her and leaving her feeling as though her entire body was aflame. When she met his gaze, everything but the awareness dissolved. Gone were the sounds of life in the village. She swore she could hear the raging hammer of his heart which had yet to slow and each thick inhale she took. Maisie dragged her gaze over his features, lingering upon the white scar then to the slight stubble on his jaw and up again to meet a gaze that remained intense. All she needed to do was push him away. To utter a quick thank you for saving her life and retreat inside. Neither her legs nor her arms would obey such a command. His gaze flicked down and up again. He twisted the golden ring on his index finger, his body swaying ever so slightly forward. Her breaths quickened, rasping in her throat. A single word would stop him. All she had to do was force one from her throat and it would put an end to the inevitable. Perhaps she’d known this would always come, even from the moment she’d first spotted him. Perhaps that was why she’d hidden from him. Apollo had always held sway over her, and years apart hadn’t changed that. If anything, it was worse. She liked the man he had grown into far too much. “Maisie,” he murmured, his tone guttural. She blinked. Her name echoed in her ears, and a flash of recollection flared. He’d uttered her name in exactly the same manner when he’d sent her away. A word tinged with regret. Well, she wasn’t giving either of them anything to regret now. She ducked under his arm and backed up by several steps. He offered a rough curse and pushed away from the wall. “That was a mistake.” He scrutinized her, his face giving nothing away. Could he not at least show regret at his actions? It would make escaping what had to have been a near kiss easier—if he did not really want it either. She knew what she wanted, and it wasn’t a kiss from Apollo. Was it? 
GIVEAWAY! -- #Book Blitz #Watch Your Back by Stacy Claflin (Ariana Jones 1) #Thriller @Xpresso Book Tours25/7/2023
Watch Your Back
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play -- EXCERPT: “Rita, where are you?” he called. She readied herself to run again. His footsteps sounded close. “Ready or not, here I come.” She held her breath. Waited. Had to get the shoes off. “Rita…” A shiver shot down her spine. “You can’t hide forever,” he said, now sounding farther away. Stomach lurching, she peeked around the corner. He neared the swings, his back to her. She loosened the buckle on her right pump. It stuck. Resisted. Footsteps grew closer. Now he was heading her way. She froze. Tried to fix her buckle. Fumbled. “There you are!” Heart nearly giving out, she turned. He stood halfway between the playground and her. Rita leaped to her feet and ran. Her right shoe clung to her foot loosely, the buckle not fully undone. Made it hard to remain steady. She kicked, trying to free herself from it. Finally lost it as she darted between bushes. Rough bark dug into her bare foot. Then concrete as she reached the sidewalk. Her hips protested the three-inch difference between her two feet, one shoed and the other not. “Gotcha!” His arms wrapped around her middle. He squeezed. She struggled and kicked, barely able to breathe. “Help! I’m being—” He covered her mouth. She bit his finger. He swore at her. Didn’t let go. Pulled her back toward the park. Rita squirmed and flailed. Scratched at him. She wasn’t going down without a fight. They flew to the ground. She landed with a hard thud. He crashed on top of her. She pushed and strained to get out from under him. “This could’ve all been avoided,” he grunted. “I only wanted to talk.” “Could’ve fooled me.” She tried to push him off. “Don’t you see we’re meant for each other?” Rita almost laughed at the irony of his words. “This is your way of winning me back?” “You have to see the obvious.” The truth was clearer now than before. But pointing that out wouldn’t do any good. Just needed to get away. Get her phone back and call the cops. Had to think fast. “You think we can work things out?” she asked, and stopped resisting. “If you’re willing to change.” He loosened his hold. She bit back a sarcastic retort. Needed to get him to move off her. “What do you want me to do?” “You have to stop flirting with guys at the bar, for starters,” he said, giving her more space. Not enough to run. “Let’s talk about that,” she said. He rolled off her and started to say something. Rita jumped up and ran. He called after her. She raced to the park. Through it. He screamed profanities at her, getting closer. She yelled for help. For all the good that would do. Her restaurant came into view. All she needed was to get to her car. Her fingerprint would start it. Thank God for technology. She’d lost her keys and purse somewhere along the way. Hadn’t even noticed when. She reached her property. Something hard struck the back of her head. Rita flew forward. Landed hard on the ground, her car just out of reach. Another hit to the head. Everything went black. 
GIVEAWAY! --
A Vampire’s Fate
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Other Retailers -- EXCERPT: So, you’ll let her fight?” His brother Griff asked. “Calvaire! No.” Ren jolted with dread at the idea of Rosalie facing that brute Bouchard in combat. “I’m the one who should fight this trial. I’m the Gauthiers’ protector, not just her husband.” “Shit, man,” Cass suddenly lifted a concerned brow as he set his drink aside. “This is your wedding night. Shouldn’t you be with her right now?” “I’m sleeping on the couch.” “Dude.” Cass shot him a pained expression. “Yeah,” he rasped as longing took hold of him. His breathing deepened and he imagined how he could slide between his sheets next to her enticing body and explore every curve he should be calling his. Take her as she cried his name in the depth of passion. “So, you haven’t…” Griff started. “Never?” “No.” He cleared his throat and dug his nails into his palm, not wanting to discuss the matter further. “Don’t you want to, though,” Griff said. “She’s quite attractive.” “Dude, she’s his wife.” “Well, apparently not,” Griff retorted. “Not in that sense, no,” Ren huffed. “Why the hell not?” Griff picked the crushed can from the deck and passed it to Cass who had started to pick up the empty drinks. “Well,” Ren started, “first I barely know her. And second, she has a boyfriend.” “Ex,” Cass corrected, dropping the dead beer cans into the brown paper bag marked with the logo of the Fortins’ grocery store. “Whatever,” Ren said. “So, you two will just like, live together. But…nothing?” Griff asked. “That’s the plan,” Ren acknowledged. “This is a fake marriage. We’ll just divorce in a couple of years.” “Fucking messed-up plan,” Griff smirked. “Yeah.” Ren shrugged hopelessly. “Some honeymoon.” 
GIVEAWAY! --
Taniwha Creek
-- EXCERPT: He Falls First: “Your mother thinks the sun shines out of your every orifice. You’d think you really were born a cherub.” “Are you harassing my hair again? “No. I thought I was harassing your dimples.” He turned his head to look at her, but she was gazing directly up at the night sky, profile framed by vines. He touched one forefinger lightly to the crease in her left cheek, then leaned across so his mouth could follow suit, whispering a kiss. Maddie didn’t pull away. “I love it when your dimples flicker like that…” he murmured against her skin. “When you’re not really smiling yet, but I know you’re happy. I know you’re content.” “Why does it mean so much to you that I’m content?” He leaned back. “I told you. You’re a part of me.” 
GIVEAWAY! --
Saving Piper Moonlight
-- EXCERPT: “Can I ask–did you ever love me?” There is laughter from the other room and a chill runs down his spine. “I assumed we’d already discussed the uselessness of emotions. They get in the way. Imagine if I let that interfere during the last two decades. We wouldn’t be where we are, on schedule for the metamorphosis.” “YOU wouldn’t be on schedule. The rest of us–well, me–would be fine. You don’t remember those times we were gardening at Fallen Branch, talking about the future? You said then you couldn’t picture anyone else by your side.” “I couldn’t. That didn’t mean I loved you, though. You were the perfect partner…for a time. As you’ve said: you didn’t have control of your emotions and I could direct you easily. I gave you a list. You accomplished every bullet point.” The Killer stalks closer. “Is there anything you want them to know? I’m giving you this gift that we never gave the others. A thank you for your service. Let’s call it my ‘emotion’ for today.” “Tell them I’m sorry. I wasn’t strong enough to continue by your side and I wasn’t smart enough to survive on my own.” “That’s not at all what I thought you would say.” “What did you expect? A lengthy speech? I’ve always left those to you.” “I thought you might want them to know you were a brave soldier in our war. Kind of make them proud, at least.” He throws his hands in the air. “I give up. You’ll make it your own story no matter what. I learned long ago that it’s impossible to please you. They’ll learn that soon enough.” “I hope not.” “Tell them…I tried. Just get on with it now. I can’t bear to think about it anymore.” His killer hands him a cup. “Cheers, my friend. It was a good ride while it lasted.” His hand brushes his killer’s and without looking up, he lifts it to his lips. 
GIVEAWAY! --
Eva
-- EXCERPT: Prologue Summer 1995, New England Marine Institute, Near Fall River, Massachusetts There they were, speeding to greet her, the reason Marianne could haul herself out of bed at 5 a.m. The two dolphins chirped and whirred, pressing up against her legs where she sat on the wood planks of the dock. “Good morning, Mamie. Hey Sugarloaf!” She stroked their noses, then gasped as she slid into the water. Although a warm day in early July, the seawater off the coast of Massachusetts held a definite chill. Being allowed to swim with these rescued wild dolphins was an act of spiritual generosity on their part. Anytime she needed peace and comfort she found it with them. Mamie nuzzled her beak against Marianne’s belly, cackled, and grinned her huge grin, then Sugarloaf gently bumped his melon directly into her abdomen. That’s odd. It is as if they know. But how was that possible? She had only found out herself a few days ago. When Sugarloaf whacked her gently with his tail, she grinned. “Ok, I hear you. Breakfast!” Pulling herself up out of the water, she reached for the bucket of fish on ice. The dolphins gulped down mackerel and herring and smiled for more. Due to the additional responsibility, this summer internship was more rewarding than the previous year. Now, instead of assigning her grunt work, the staff in charge at NEMI felt safe with her and she was now entrusted with feeding and entertaining the rescued dolphins. This was her life’s dream. But she was going to need a Bachelor’s, then a Master’s in marine biology. How would she manage? A lump formed in the back of her throat as she tried to figure out, yet again, how to tell her dad. Gazing out across the gray-blue water, she could just make out the outline of the Elizabeth Islands. One was Cuttyhunk. It had been just as the travel brochure described: “An hour’s sail to a secluded paradise.” She sighed. An unusually warm day in May had extended into a glorious evening of sunburn, seafood, and laughter, with a sense of magic in the air. Not to mention the shots of Tequila, which added confidence, even pushiness, to his advances. She never knew if alcohol released a person’s inhibitions, to display who that person really was, or if it created a totally different persona. Well, it didn’t matter, now. To be fair, she’d had a few glasses of wine herself, so the fault wasn’t all his. Mamie sidled up to Marianne’s leg and chattered softly. Sliding back into the water with plastic balls, Marianne played with her two friends, laughing out loud as they leaped into the air, tossing the balls back and forth. “Marianne, good morning!” “Hey, Trish!” Marianne headed back to the dock. Tiny Trish Silva was in her mid-fifties, but from a distance looked sixteen. Slender and fit, she buzzed with energy, making Marianne think of a honeybee or a hummingbird, staying that thin thanks to a super-charged metabolism. Trish called out, “Labs show Mamie’s still thiamine deficient, so we have to dose her. You fed them yet?” Marianne grinned. “Oh, I think I can persuade her.” She slipped the pasty little ball of nutrients into a chunk of fish and tossed it down Mamie’s open mouth. “Ta-da.” Trish asked, “So, did you end it with him?” Marianne nodded. “How did he take it?” “Not bad. At first.” Trish shook her head. “Huh. What do you mean, at first?” “Well, now he just keeps calling…” “Oh man, seriously? I didn’t know rich guys did that.” “Well, he’ll get it, eventually.” Marianne heard the doubt in her own voice and when Trish gave her an odd look, she repeated, “He’ll get it. If I ignore him, he’ll get the message.” Trish shuddered. “Glad I don’t have to go through any of that anymore. OK, moving on, we had a rescue last night–Jeremy and the team found a short-beaked common dolphin, a baby, just a few days old. She’s in the smallest tank and we’ve been holding her afloat…” She glanced at her watch. “Peter’s on now, then I need you to take a shift.” “What happened to her?” Trish ran her hands through her spiky gray hair. “An incident with a boat propeller–cut her fin up badly. The vet’s been and stitched her up, but she’s lost a lot of blood. We couldn’t find her mother or the pod. We named her Grace.” The two women headed back toward the facility, where the tanks held rescued turtles, otters, dolphins, and sometimes whales. They were returned to the wild, if and when possible. The center tried to limit human contact so most could be sent back to the ocean, but sometimes the animals were too injured to be considered releasable. There, in the small holding tank, Marianne saw Peter, a staff biologist, holding the new infant. Only about two feet long, the little dolphin lay still in Peter’s hands. While keeping her afloat, her blowhole out of the water, he reached for a bottle of formula and held the nipple to the dolphin’s stubby snout. She didn’t respond. “Hasn’t eaten yet,” he said. “Not a good sign.” Trish sighed. Marianne climbed down into the water and took over from Peter. “Give us a shout if you have any problems,” Trish said as she and Peter headed for the door. Marianne stared down at Grace. The nasty cut in the baby’s fin was held together by a clear line of stitches. Otherwise, the little dolphin’s gray skin was flawless. Through the water, Marianne could make out the distinctive yellow and gray pattern in the shape of an hourglass on her flank. A big eye watched her. “Hey, little Gracie, you’ll be fine, you’ll be fine.” She crooned to the baby dolphin, but it remained still. A strange stirring in her lower belly sent an icy sensation racing up Marianne’s spine. It wasn’t pain, exactly, just pressure, almost as if her insides were vibrating. She’d never felt anything like it. Was this normal in the first few weeks? Then the little dolphin in her arms began to stir, almost vibrate, as well. And the sensation of pressure in her abdomen grew even stronger. She opened her mouth to call for help, but then the dolphin shivered, relaxed, and lay motionless. Marianne felt another chill of dread. She called over her shoulder, “Trish, Trish? Can you come?” As she shouted, Grace’s tail began to sweep up and down, and Marianne could feel its muscles bunching and tightening. Marianne gasped, as with a burst of energy the dolphin pushed out of her arms. The strange sensation down low in her abdomen faded until it disappeared. “Trish! Come quickly!” She held on to the ladder and watched, mesmerized, as Grace swooped around the tank. Trish came running out of one of the doors just in time to see the little dolphin return to Marianne and press up against her. “That’s great!” Trish grinned and squatted down at the edge of the tank. Grace gave a series of clicking sounds and Marianne reached for the bottle of formula. The baby pulled at it noisily, and after demolishing the bottle, took off around the tank again. Marianne threw back her head and laughed. “Marianne,” a voice shouted from the doorway. It was Jennifer, the motherly admin/receptionist at the front desk. “Someone’s here asking for you. Young guy… tall, blond…” Trish flashed Marianne a look. “Is that him?” Marianne muttered, “Oh for God’s sake.” She called back to Jennifer. “Tell him I’m unavailable, OK? Thanks, Jen.” “Oh, Marianne. That’s annoying.” Trish touched her arm. “And a bit scary! What are you going to do?” Marianne shook her head and bit her lip. This situation was getting out of hand. 
GIVEAWAY! -- |
Archives
December 2024
Categories
All
|
RSS Feed
