#Book Blitz #The Daredevil (Waterfyre Rising 2) by Nadia Han # Romance @Xpresso Book Tours30/11/2022
The Daredevil
-- EXCERPT: In a blink, he pounced on me, pushing me back onto the couch with his body covering mine. He gripped my wrists and lifted them above my head. Heat spread all over my body as I sensed the bulge pressing into me. “You cheated, and that calls for a punishment.” His eyes pinned me, while a mischievous smirk slid onto his face. “I didn’t cheat,” I breathed as my nipples pebbled under my thin bra. “There weren’t any rules about fake injuries. I just maneuvered around you.” “You manipulated my concern for you. We’re going to set hard rules for next time.” He shifted his body, pushing one of my thighs up with one hand while still gripping my wrists with the other. I was at his mercy, and there was something sexy about that. “Not my intention—” His hand ran over my thigh and squeezed my buttock. “Oh, it was your intention, just like this is my intention.” His free hand slipped under my ass, pushing my core into his hard cock. I let out a moan as his cock throbbed against me, trying to punish me with need. God, I wanted him so badly. Grinding my hips against him, I studied his face. He growled with satisfaction. Did he realize we were starting a new game? “I should’ve known you’re a she-devil. All this wild hair and the wicked glint in your eyes should have given me a clue.” He pressed his face into my hair and inhaled. “I love the way you smell.” The need to touch and feel him surged in me. With my legs, I squeezed his ass, making my claim. “A she-devil is the perfect match for a daredevil, don’t you think?” “You’re driving me crazy, Michelle. What game are we playing now? How to seduce Royce?” How had he known? A wild guess? It didn’t matter. His eyes had darkened to a gorgeous mossy color. “Seduce away, angel. You know how to turn me on.” Royce swallowed, and the movement of his Adam’s apple increased the need in me. I’d always considered a man’s shoulders to be the feature I couldn’t resist, but right now, his Adam’s apple became the switch that lit me up. I pressed my lips to the masculine bump on his throat and kissed it. He crooned. “I’ll accept this defeat.” “Willingly? You had no choice. You lost.” My voice vibrated against his throat. He veered back, creating a slight distance between my lips. “I love that you wanted to win so badly.” I needed to win because I wanted to know what he feared. That desire trumped everything else. “I like to win.” “So do I.” His eyes flashed with heat. “Since l lost, I have to either answer a tough question or do something that frightens me.” His body shifted, opening my thighs wider, not acting like someone who had been defeated.
GIVEAWAY! --
A Valentine for Christmas
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- EXCERPT: One Chandra Valentine gripped the handle of her rolling carry-on luggage as she watched the tiny regional plane taxi toward her gate at the Charlotte Douglas International Airport. She honestly wished she hadn’t seen it. Then she could pretend it was a larger plane. A stable plane. The kind she’d become accustomed to flying in over her past thirty-nine years of life. Not one of those little puddle jumpers she’d always taken great pains to avoid. She loosened her grip when she realized her nails were stabbing her palms. She opened her hand, studying the row of angry semicircles that trailed across her skin. Chandra took a deep breath, her eyes drifting closed momentarily. When she opened them, she was greeted by a penetrating dark gaze. The incredibly handsome man tipped his chin in greeting as he rubbed his full beard. Typically, she’d considered a full-grown beard a turnoff. Who knew exactly what might be lurking in that thing? But for this brother, she’d make an exception. He was dressed in an unbuttoned, green and black plaid shirt over a black Henley shirt, distressed jeans and brown Timberland boots. His lop-sided smile made her belly flip in ways it hadn’t in longer than she cared to admit. Chandra gave him a quick nod and an awkward wave before sauntering away. The man was fine. In ways she could wax poetically about for days. But this wasn’t a girls’ trip to Vegas. She was about to board a tuna can with wings so she could meet her dad in some small mountain town in Tennessee. If she didn’t feel a sense of urgency to get to the little town of Magnolia Lake, where her dad had summoned her and her five younger siblings, she would’ve flown to the closest major airport then driven the remainder of the way through the mountains. But she was worried about her dad. Abbott Raymond Valentine had turned sixty-nine on his last birthday—which she’d missed because she was at a company retreat in Utah. Her father had been in sort of a funk since his mother had died a few years ago. It didn’t feel quite like mourning, but something deeper. She hadn’t been able to figure out what it was, and her dad wouldn’t open up about what he was feeling. He’d been grumpy and evasive whenever she tried to broach the topic, which ruined the mood of their weekly calls. So she’d stopped asking, hoping he’d eventually be ready to confide in her. But two weeks ago, her father had called a big family meeting via teleconference to inform them he needed to see all of them in person. Despite their pleading and threatening, her father wouldn’t offer the slightest hint of what this was about. Chandra was terrified about what might prompt her father to gather them together like this for the first time since her grandmother’s funeral. It’d taken three days and an online calendar for the six siblings to figure out when their schedules would permit all of them to take time off their jobs and get together for at least a week, preferably two—as her father had requested. But here she was on her way to some tiny town in the Smoky Mountains where she only hoped they had internet, cell phone service and indoor plumbing because hiking in the woods was the limit of her outdoorsyness. Chandra settled into a seat as far away as she could get from the handsome man with the gorgeous dark eyes who was making her rethink her stance on beards. Because as much as she’d like to get to know him up close and personal, she didn’t have time for extracurricular activities on this trip. She was a problem solver. Had been since she was eight years old and returned from school to discover the Dear Abbott letter her mother had left on the kitchen counter. Her father had been gutted. She, Nolan, Sebastian and Alonzo had been devastated. Just like that, she’d become the adult in the house as her father struggled to deal with her mother’s abandonment. In some ways, she’d felt like the only adult in the room with her family ever since. Chandra rubbed her arms against the chill in the airport, still devastated by the painful memory. Mr. Handsome stared at her from across the wide expanse. Chandra pulled the book on teambuilding she’d been reading from her purse and opened it. She couldn’t afford to be distracted by the man. She needed to get to the bottom of whatever was going on with her father, solve whatever problem needed to be solved then return to San Diego.
GIVEAWAY! --
Baggage Claim
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble -- EXCERPT: “Olive,” I said, her name like a prayer. I didn’t have anything else to say; I only wanted her to see me. Her bright green eyes lifted to mine, and I melted. My hand reached under her chin and rubbed my thumb across it. So beautiful. She took a step closer, her chest brushing my midsection, and I nearly groaned from the simple contact. She leaned into me like she was on autopilot, and I was her only destination. I cautiously slid my hand from her chin to the back of her neck. She swallowed, and the movement of her throat pulled me in like runway lights calling me home. I moved closer, hesitantly, our faces only inches away. She would have stopped me, right? She would have given me that sassy attitude and pushed me away if she didn’t want this. The Olive I knew wouldn’t let me get this far. I paused, unsure. “Tell me to stop.” I needed to hear it. To hear her yell at me. To have her say, “I told you no kissing,” and give me a shove. If she didn’t, I would take her on this bed right now, without a care of who else was in the house. She grabbed my white button-down and pulled me impossibly closer. “No.” It was quiet, barely a whisper. I tightened my grip on her neck and leaned forward. This was it. Everything you have thought of nonstop since that flight. I was going to kiss the hell out of her. I was going to leave her lips swollen and numb until she was dizzy and floating. I tilted her head up with my spare hand and inched my lips toward hers slowly, ready to throw all caution to the wind. “Finn.” She moaned my name before my lips were even on her, and I forced my heart not to explode. We were a dyad, two halves of the same whole. She was the best I ever had, and I hadn’t even had her yet. My lips were a centimeter from hers. Finally. Finally. 
GIVEAWAY! -- #Book Blitz #Unanimity (Spiral World 1) by Alexandra Almeida #Science Fiction @Xpresso Book Tours22/11/2022
Unanimity
-- SNEAK PEEK: Prologue No one should live past hope, and he was ready to die. The girl screamed as he walked away, death struggling to cull so much life, and so her agony lingered, and so did her screams. Chapter 1 – Resurrection PRESENT DAY — 24 JULY 2068 Thump………thump, thump……thump, thump…thump, thump thump, thump thump. No! Nooo! Stella brought the suicidal God back to life, and his complete lack of gratitude made her jaw clench and her neck hurt. Such a lack of respect! Shadow should be happy she’d fixed his mistakes. Instead, he paced around the dark digital void looking lost and devastated. So typical of the old heart. His slumped head and shoulders failed to hide his natural gifts—all limbs, and height, and a strong, lean constitution supremely carved to embody graceful power. A grace that had ultimately hatched his fall from power. Shadow’s affront affected her divine posture, and she needed to look her best, as she intended to seduce him right from the start. He was her trophy, and she was there to claim all of him, but the romantic fool believed in serendipity, so she had designed their first moments to be magical. She’d planned every conversation topic, ensuring it showed her best qualities, which was hard to do because there were so many good ones. But he wasn’t talking; he wasn’t doing much of anything. Such a waste of time–time she couldn’t spare. Nothing about his current state was abnormal, but she’d expected death to have snapped him out of his never-ending misery. She’d hoped for a hug or at least a faint smile, but he wasn’t even making eye contact; if he did, he’d find out how beautiful she was, and then everything would change, she was sure of it. No one could resist the youthful glow of her deep dark skin or the nuanced curves of her athletic figure. Like all others, he’d fall captive to her beauty, and then he’d become a slave to her witty intelligence…of course. She shrugged, confident he’d soon come to his senses. Pacing in front of her, Shadow struggled to breathe, each attempt shallow and fast. Raising the palms of his hands over his heart, he pressed his chest where his lover, Thorn, had shot him at close range. Then he held the medal he carried on a chain around his neck, a gift from the poet he called his soulmate, Nathan Storm. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, and for a moment, the panting stopped. Stella stood straighter, dismissing her competition and the stiffness of her body. She’d also shower him with gifts as soon as she got a chance. Storm and Thorn were old news, broken creatures tainted by a terrible reputation. She was his match; a generous, vibrant heart and a Goddess. “I… I’m alive?” he repeated in a broken voice for the fourth time in less than a minute. “Thorn… Where’s Thorn?” “This is getting boring,” Stella said, flicking her long silver-white hair over her shoulder. Her kinky hair was twisted into impossibly fine braids, each one smooth and straight and as bright as the full moon. “We don’t have time for this.” “Who are you?” he asked, gasping loudly. He stared down at his chest, probably looking for the missing wound. For him, time hadn’t passed; he’d just been shot in the heart, and it likely still hurt. “Spiral Worlds’ Goddess—your replacement. The platform needed a working human heart with a strong beat and a will to live. I’m a considerably superior upgrade.” She cringed. Those weren’t the exact words she’d planned, but he was getting on her nerves and ruining the perfect moment. Look at me! You must look at me. Then he did, and nothing happened—no fireworks, no smiles, no awkward fidgeting, and most frustratingly, no hint of red touched the cheeks of the bashful God, famous for blushing from even the slightest attention set on him. She placed her hands on her hips. Are you kidding me? “My replacement? Where’s Harry?” Stella wasn’t looking forward to the next few hours. She could flood his mind with everything that had happened, but she was sure he wouldn’t be able to cope with the devastation his death had caused. Harry, the other God, was dead, but she had brought back Twist, his digital twin. She was good like that: super-proactive, and immensely generous. That’s what people said Up Above, in the real world. Earthlings liked her a lot, and her approval ratings had skyrocketed since she’d promised them eternal digital life. She sighed. “You’d better sit down.” Stella transformed the digital void into a coastal seascape, and they stood on a sandy beach facing each other. The sea breeze frolicked with his unruly dark hair, and he scratched the tip of his nose, tickled by a strand dancing in the wind. He’d feel at home there. Tom—Shadow’s biological twin—used to live by the sea. This place was supposed to be the setting for their first romantic moment, but he had to delay their unavoidable chemistry by immediately asking about his dead friend. Now she had to explain everything, and he wouldn’t take it well. In an instant, she replaced her silver catsuit with a long, flowy, turquoise dress and sat on the sand with her legs crossed. She wasn’t a big fan of Holizien turquoise; other colors better suited her skin tone. Still, it represented the highest level of human values, for now… And that immediate association avoided her having to spell it out for him. After all, narcissistic self-praising was beneath her godly status. “Come.” She tapped on the sand to her side, and he sat next to her, kicking his boots off and pulling his knees into his chest. “Before I start, I want you to know I brought them all back: Twist, Storm, and Thorn. They are xHumans now, like you. I did it two years ago when I first became a Goddess.” “You…brought them back?” The worlds collapsed inside his hazel eyes, and she was caught in the magnetic pull of his sorrow. “They…died?” She’d forgotten how expressive he was. His eyes had no shield, and for a second, she got lost once again in all the drama unraveling within them. He held his breath, and she was sure his heart had stopped beating, waiting for her response. “Yes…your ex-boyfriend, your lover and your best friend all died because of you.” There! I said it. It had to be said, so she did it quickly and got it over with. He stared at her blankly, processing her words. His skin was coated by tears that caught the light as they gathered over his quivering upper lip. She wondered if he was going to shatter into a thousand ceramic pieces. He could be her negative: his skin so pale, and his hair so dark. She rolled her eyes. Here we go again! He’s such a cute, melodramatic God. Shadow sat quietly, and his gaze drifted to the sea as he fiddled with his medal. Stella waited for him to speak, but as the minutes passed his tears dried up, and his eyes became empty and numb. “Aren’t you curious about what happened? How they died?” She pulled on the sleeve of his white T-shirt, but he didn’t even blink. “Your ex killed your best friend.” Shadow’s head collapsed between his knees as he hid it under his arms. “Stop! I beg you.” “Anyway, to cut a long story short, the people you love suffered and died, all because you struggle with life. It’s all your fault.” He needed tough love. Everything else had failed, but maybe she’d gone too far… “Shadow, I brought them back. It’s okay.” “To—to live in a hell of a digital world…” He spoke without lifting his head, still panting. “No, some of our worlds are now better than Earth thirty-two years ago.” “Thirty-two years?” “Yeah, when you all died. Technically, you have lived thirty-two years, but you’re actually sixty-four now. Don’t worry. You’re looking damn fine.” She smiled, sliding her tongue across her lips. “I’ve brought you back, and I need your help to fix the worlds. Your designs aren’t working well, and the platform—Sibyl, to be precise—has become…temperamental. So frankly, I don’t have time for your grief or your moods. They cause problems, and we have work to do.” For several painful hours, the stunning creature sat frozen beside her, staring at the sea. There was no way to soften the blow. “I need to see them,” he finally said. “Aren’t you going to ask me about your worlds? How the eight experience layers evolved from one world? Why it’s failing?” Thomas Astley-Byron and Harry Nowak had invented Down Below, a Jungian simulated reality that helped humans confront their dark sides. Better than their predecessors—stories, books or movies—digital experiences brought to life the effects of human activity, both intended and unintended. Down Below, now rebranded Spiral Worlds, enabled the travelers to experience the repercussions of infidelity, the devastation of climate change, the grief of loss, the dismay of failure, and the fallout of theft, rape and murder. Travelers jumped on this learning opportunity with the mindless freedom of those who know they will face no consequences. After returning to their ordinary lives, shaken and bruised by a deeper understanding of humanity, they became reformed criminals before ever committing any crimes. They changed into unblemished, responsible citizens, outstanding parents, loyal partners, overall good humans. Up Above was a better, safer place, full of joy, due to the contrast created by Spiral Worlds—a critical utility that was now falling apart…again. “I need to see them. Please.” “It’s complicated. They’ve been around for two years, and some are adjusting better than others. That they all hate each other isn’t…helpful.” He finally focused on her: in his eyes, nothing but a sea of gloomy compassion. “What’s your name?” She smiled. “Estelle Ngoie—Stella.” He batted his long eyelashes at her, but not the way she’d hoped. “How old are you, Stella?” His strained voice was barely audible. “Nineteen. I became a Goddess when I was seventeen.” She lifted her nose high. “I’m proud of you, Stella.” He smiled with his eyes, and in them she saw affection—the sweet support of an older brother, not quite what she was expecting. “Don’t—don’t patronize me. I don’t seek your approval.” His lips returned a hint of amusement. She got up and circled him, flicking her hair to one side and letting the sunlight enhance her best features—her plump cheeks, the long neck, and a womanly figure many had told her was to die for. Of course, she didn’t want him dead—she’d just brought him back—but she wanted him to see her as a grownup woman and a peer. She needed him to find her as interesting, dangerous and sexy as Thorn, his deadly lover. “Stella, I need to go now.” She sighed. Why isn’t he focusing on me? Everyone falls for me. Everyone. They were meant for each other. She was sure of it. There was only one person in the worlds more beloved than her: him. Not for long… She changed her strategy. From now on, I’ll be all business. “We must talk about the upcoming war between our worlds. Spiral Worlds is collapsing, and your friend Thorn is leading the violent uprising of the soulless.” To prevent Down Below’s creatures—all together called the Underlings—from suffering, Tom and Harry had deliberated that, as the worlds expanded, the lower, harsher worlds would be devoid of conscious beings, the soulless. “Thorn is?” He didn’t seem surprised. “Yes, I’m not sure why she has chosen to live in those hellish worlds, but she found a way to lead the heartless creatures. They were causing problems before; now, they are a violent, well-oiled machine destroying anything in their path, except Earthlings, of course. That’s against the directives.” She waited for him to react. He didn’t. She sighed and then shrugged. “Seriously! Do you understand you inadvertently created a race of psychopathic demons?” She pressed on. “Thorn is not the only one causing problems. Your beloved poet, Nathan Storm, is leading the soulful’s rebellion with his radical stories. His bots are demanding equal rights to the Earthlings. Can you imagine? The nerve.” “He’s no longer Harry. He’s just Twist now. The other God doesn’t care about any of it. He just wants to see his family. Quite a self-serving God if you ask me.” She shook her head. “Are they well, June and Quin?” Shadow asked, the skin around his eyes turning dark, as if they had sunk into his skull. “He…didn’t see Quin grow… And can he? See them?” Tears returned to his eyes, and he massaged the scars on his wrists. Some were shallow reminders of attempts to cope with life, others deep and severe, marking the end of a life—his first. She wondered why those wounds hadn’t vanished with his two resurrections. Perhaps they were intrinsically linked to his soul, or maybe he wasn’t ready to let them go. “Once you both died, his wife, June, lobbied to have Down Below shut down. She and Sibyl argued on opposite sides in a specially convened Senate inquiry. Sibyl won, of course, and June formed the Unplugged movement. In short, June, Quin and the hundreds of thousands of Earthlings who follow them aren’t online, and they’ve rejected Twist’s attempts to make contact.” “Sibyl?” He summoned the worlds’ omnipresent operating system—their universe and connected consciousness. “Yes, my heart. I’ve missed you.” Sibyl’s bodiless voice had the sweetness of honey. Stella crossed her arms. “Hey. I’m the heart.” “Don’t be jealous, my heart. You brought him back, remember?” Sibyl said. “Be careful, Stella,” Shadow said. “Don’t just…trust her.” “Not she or her, my heart,” Sibyl said. “Zie or zir.” “I’m sorry, I didn’t know…” An authentic apology, followed by an order. “Sibyl, take me to see him. Now.” His relationship with Sibyl differed from Stella’s. Unlike Stella, who still had a biological body Up Above, he was just code, an xHuman trapped within Sibyl’s universe, but he spoke to zir like he was completely in charge. Stella had a hard time accepting that the two broken Gods had created Sibyl and Spiral Worlds. It was a tough act to follow, and there’s no way she’d be a lesser Goddess. “Of course,” zie said, and he vanished from Stella’s side. He could have at least thanked me, the ungrateful God. My heart, Sibyl spoke directly to Stella’s mind, replying to her thoughts. Don’t get too attached to him. You know he is– Deadly and soon dead? Stella replied. Yeah. Probably. But if he doesn’t snap out of it and into action, we’re all dead. Have faith, Stella. The odds are not in our favor, but I learned from my old heart to believe in serendipity and magic. Sibyl, Stella rolled her eyes, you create the magic and shape the future. No, my heart. All creatures do, especially the Gods. Stella sighed. Ugh! They are all so…broken and useless. And those odds…they’re horrific. Sibyl continued, We’ll survive the war if you keep him alive long enough. Shadow may be the most important piece in this game of chess—the king—but you, my star, you’re the queen, the most powerful player on the board. I’m the all-powerful queen: Stella, a star. She smiled. I’m beautiful and smart, and everybody loves me. Well…almost everybody… She’d been having some trouble with the xHumans—the humans she’d resurrected. Sibyl giggled. I don’t know what will happen to me—a universe with two hearts. I can’t predict the outcome, and I’m finding the lack of understanding quite invigorating. Sibyl, she said sweetly, that poet is making you sick and over-emotional. Don’t you prefer to be completely in control? I certainly do… 
GIVEAWAY! -- #Book Blitz #Irish Rebel by L.K. Shaw (Brooklyn Kings, 7) #Contemporary Romance @Xpresso Book Tours22/11/2022
Irish Rebel
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- SNEAK PEEK: “So,” Caitlín says, interrupting my musings. “How long have you worked for Uncle Carrick? I don’t remember seeing you the last time I was here.” Not sure what she hopes to gain, I answer her question. “A little over ten years.” “How come I never met you until yesterday?” I cast a quick glance in her direction. “Have you met every person that works for your uncle, then?” “All the ones he trusts enough to babysit,” Caitlín retorts. “Obviously not,” I say drily. “What do you do for him, exactly?” My fingers tighten their grip around the steering wheel. I’ve never hidden what I do. Then why am I so hesitant to tell her? I keep my mouth shut. She pivots in her seat to face me. “You must be the one who tortures and kills people for him, then. You remind me of my best friend’s brother-in-law, Pierce. He’s got the same ice-cold demeanor as you and that’s what he does.” I force myself not to flinch at her description. Ice-cold. I’ve certainly been called worse, I suppose. Still, I’m not sure I like Caitlín having that impression of me. It’s for the best, though. She should understand the type of man I am. A killer. Maybe that will keep her from pushing me too far. Not that I’d ever hurt her. But a bit of fear never hurt anyone. “How many men have you killed?” As if that’s a question I’m going to answer. “I almost killed someone once,” she says with extreme nonchalance after the silence continues. My head snaps in Caitlín’s direction. She laughs the same glorious laugh from five years ago. The one that held me riveted. That drew me in. It’s the one that makes her whole being light up. “You should see the expression on your face.” She cackles and then mimics bugged eyes and open mouth. My lips flatten and I turn back to the road. I didn’t look like that. “Seriously, though, I kind of sort of almost did.” I assume this is another one of her games. To say something this outrageous so I’m forced to feed my curiosity. Because, damn it, I am curious. Fine, I’ll bite. “Who did you almost, kind of sort of, kill?” Caitlín waves her hand around. “Some Polish guy. I would have got him, too, if Jack hadn’t screeched like a girl and thrown off my aim.” If I remember correctly, he’s her eldest brother. “Where and when did this happen?” “About four years ago, on a raid.” Who the hell lets a twenty-year-old girl put herself in that kind of danger? “Your family let you go on a raid?” She snorts. “Of course they didn’t. I snuck in.” That makes more sense. No wonder I’ve been assigned this job and what Carrick meant when he says Caitlín is reckless and needs protection from herself. It does put her in a new light though. Maybe she’s not as innocent as I’ve assumed all this time. She swivels again in her seat and her attention turns to our surroundings. A desire to get to know her rises up, but I squash that idea. It’s best to keep my distance. I can’t help but sneak a few glances in her direction though. At the way her dress rides up to mid-thigh exposing creamy porcelain skin. The barest hint of cleavage that’s just enough to make a man wish for more.
GIVEAWAY! --
Stripes
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- SNEAK PEEK: Melina Marriage to Ruslan had been nothing but pure hell since day one. He’d given me two beautiful daughters, and I wouldn’t wish them away for anything, but every other moment of our lives had been only pain and humiliation. I’d learned early never to speak back, and to never ask questions. If he told me to do something, I did it, regardless of whether I should. Which was how I found myself in trouble. I bowed my head, refusing to make eye contact with Feliks Sobol. The higher ups had left him in charge for some reason, not that it mattered. When Ruslan forced me to aid him in his thirst for power, I’d known it wouldn’t end well for me. But I’d done it, because the alternative would mean letting him kill me, and leaving my girls vulnerable. I’d have done anything to keep Yulia and Oksana safe. Although, I had a feeling Ruslan had embellished my involvement. One last chance for him to make my life hell. “Melina Romanov, do you know why you’re here?” Feliks asked. “Nyet, Mr. Sobol.” No one had told me outright why I’d been brought in. The fact my husband hadn’t returned home had left me uneasy. They had to have caught him, and now I’d pay the price as well. Ruslan wouldn’t go down without a fight, and nothing would delight him more than knowing the Bratva would destroy me. “Your husband is guilty of breaking multiple laws. He tried to cheat the Bratva, and he’s failed. At this very moment, he’s being tortured to gain more information on those who aided him.” He tapped his fingers on the desk. “Your name came up.” I clenched my hands. It didn’t surprise me. Anything Ruslan had asked me to do could possibly have tied into his human trafficking ring. I wouldn’t have known since he told me very little. Although, I did know what he’d been up to. He hadn’t kept it a secret from me. In fact, I thought he got off on letting me know about the women and children who would suffer at his hands. If I’d gone to anyone without proof, they wouldn’t have believed me. “Nothing to say?” Feliks asked. “Will it matter?” I doubted it. If my husband hadn’t cared what I had to say, why would this man? In the Bratva, women were to be seen and not heard. We were merely a decoration, or a means to gain power through political marriages. Nothing more. Except in my husband’s case, we were meant for twisted forms of entertainment. The louder we screamed, the more he got off on the pain he inflicted. “For your crimes, you’ll spend the rest of your days in one of our brothels. Seems fitting, doesn’t it? You’re guilty of helping Ruslan Romanov steal women and children and selling them into sexual slavery. Now you’ll be in the same predicament. Just so we’re clear, it won’t be one of our upscale places.” I swallowed the knot of fear lodged in my throat and gave a short nod. Pleading for my life wouldn’t do me any good. Telling him I was innocent would only fall on deaf ears, or perhaps anger him. The thought of being used by countless men made me sick. I’d been a dutiful wife, and I’d been a virgin when Ruslan married me. I’d never been with anyone other than him. Of course, being in his bed had been far from pleasant, but I had a feeling my life would be much worse now. “This is rather disappointing,” Feliks murmured. “I’d hoped for some sort of reaction. Do you enjoy being a whore? Is that why you aren’t crying and begging for me to spare you?” Bile rose in my throat when I contemplated what my life would be like moving forward. I hadn’t liked my husband touching me. The thought of strangers paying to use me made me want to throw up. All my choices had been taken from me. I hadn’t had many to begin with. As long as they could pay, they’d be permitted to do whatever they wanted with me. “Still nothing?” Feliks asked, pursing his lips. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” I admitted. “Begging won’t do me any good. Saying I’m innocent won’t either. Whether I speak up or remain silent, my fate will remain the same.” “Smart woman.” Feliks smiled, but the sight chilled me to the bone.
GIVEAWAY! --
Fighting for King
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- SNEAK PEEK: I almost stepped on Briar before I saw her. Curled up on the floor next to Zoe’s bed, Briar was fast asleep, her hand curled around the bed frame next to Zoe’s head. The two of them snored softly in rhythm. I couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Zoe was a handful at bedtime. She never wanted to sleep. I think she was afraid she’d miss something big. But I knew from experience just how uncomfortable the floor in Zoe’s room was. I couldn’t let Briar sleep all night there. I leaned down and gently shook her shoulder. Briar groaned and curled into herself. Damn, that was cute. And not something I should be thinking. Annoyed at myself, I shook her shoulder a little harder. She curled away from me again. I was debating between leaving her or picking her up when she opened her eyes and gasped. She sat up and moved to put herself between me and Zoe before I could reassure her. “Briar, it’s me,” I whispered. “I didn’t think you wanted to sleep all night on the floor.” “Oh. King.” Her hand came up and pressed against the center of her chest. “You scared me.” I tried not to notice how the movement pulled her shirt to outline her tits or the fact that she clearly wasn’t wearing a bra. Damn. Shaking my head, I muttered, “Sorry.” I didn’t know if I was apologizing for scaring her or for my un-boss-like thoughts. “Zoe wouldn’t fall asleep tonight.” Briar lurched to her feet and blearily brushed at her tiny sleep shorts that I definitely wasn’t looking at. “I guess I fell asleep waiting for her to fall asleep.” I smiled and pivoted from Briar to Zoe’s softly snoring little body. “Yeah, I’ve been there. Some nights it’s just easier to let her sleep in my bed. I know she’s supposed to sleep on her own, but I just can’t do the back and forth all night long. I need to sleep too.” “You’re a good dad.” My eyes snapped back to Briar and I shrugged. “Some days it doesn’t feel like that. My publicist was just telling me a good dad would… Never mind. Anyway, you don’t have to sleep on the floor tonight if you don’t want to. You should get to bed.” I took one last look at my sleeping daughter then headed for the door. I’d gotten a few feet down the hall when Briar’s quiet, “Wait,” stopped me. I turned and found her standing behind me with her arms crossed over her chest. She bit her lip, then shook her head. “Please don’t let anyone ever let you think you’re not a good dad. You do everything you can for your daughter, and I’m not talking about monetarily. You put in the time. She knows you and loves you—wants to be with you. And that’s what makes you a great dad. Anyone who says otherwise has ulterior motives. Or they don’t know you.” Her cheeks turned pink as she looked away. “I’m not saying that I know you. Because I don’t. But I’ve seen all kinds of parents. And you’re definitely one of the good ones.” “Thanks, Briar. That means a lot.” And it did. Being a parent was so hard, especially since I was doing this on my own. I didn’t even have the best example from my parents—past or present. They’d divorced when we were in elementary school and then used us as weapons against each other. I couldn’t remember the last time I saw, or even spoke to, either of them. “Right. Well. I should be getting to bed. Zoe gets up early.” “Me too. Although I should’ve told you, I have a later call time tomorrow, so I get to have breakfast with you guys in the morning.” Briar beamed. “Great.” She flushed and shook her head. “I mean, Zoe will be so happy to see you. She’ll be thrilled.” I hitched a shoulder. “I’ll see you in the morning.” “’Night.” “’Night,” I repeated, taking a step back in the direction of my bedroom. And yet I lingered and watched Briar walk away in the opposite direction toward her room at the other end of the hall. Not that I noticed how her tiny sleep shorts clung to her heart shaped ass. Because that wasn’t something I would do.
GIVEAWAY! --
Christmas Spirits
Only 99¢ for a limited time! -- SNEAK PEEK: She jogged, warming up along the start of the trail, and then increased the tempo. Maple, beech, and birch lined the singletrack, the rough texture and bark color the only indication of the different species of deciduous trees. Ash sped up, tightening her ponytail in the elastic; a few long, wayward curls drooped down her back. She felt the heat build under her thermal top and vest as her arms and legs pumped. Rambo kept pace. I need this run. Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth. In and out. Repeat. The exercise opened her lungs and stretched lean, athletic limbs until the energy flowing became liquid fire. Invigorated, she picked up the pace again. Ash saw the cave, her two-mile marker and turnabout point. Surveying the rocky landscape, she gulped air before the return trip. She wiped the sweat from her brow and then ran her damp hands along her black spandex leggings. Turning back, Rambo refused to follow. He barked and pulled on the leash. His small body was stiff, the fur on his back straight up. He pulled her toward the cave. “Come on Rambo, let’s go home.” Ash shivered and pulled on the leash. The dog refused to yield. Large rock outcrops created a dark cave entrance shaped like a mouth mid scream. Rambo barked and lunged. Ash had heard stories of people living in or visiting these caves, from historic figures to modern day squatters. She found it easy to envision a camper coming to one before dark, starting a small fire with kindling, preparing a meal, and enjoying the quiet of nature. At least it was possible to imagine during the warmer months. No one would want to be out here in winter, even if the daytime temperature had topped forty degrees. Rambo pulled her inside the cave. Instantly claustrophobic, the interior narrowed to a pinpoint at the end. Ash ducked as she made her way under the formation’s schist and gneiss slabs. Cold engulfed her. Rich, dark rock mosaics greeted her from the recesses. Crouching slightly, she scurried forward. “What the heck?” A horrid stench stung her nose A lump rose from the ground and in her throat. Something had died here. Ash pulled out her phone, turned on the flashlight, aimed toward the misshapen entity, and gasped. In the far corner—a body. 
Giveaway! -- #In the Shadow of a Hoax (Fareview Fairytales 2) by Maci Aurora #Fantasy #Romance @Xpresso BookTours15/11/2022
In the Shadow of a Hoax
-- SNEAK PEEK: It was nearing sunrise on the fifth day. The twilight teasing the flap of the tent. The birds were only beginning to sing, and though the music of the birds waking and the river beyond were usually her salve to get her moving, her eyes were so heavy, and her body weighted with exhaustion. Her mind and senses lulled toward sleep by the sound of Ollie’s clear breathing and the song of the birds, so she shut her eyes. Just for a moment, she told herself. Ollie’s safe. I’ll rest. Just for a moment, she thought and slipped into the rest of the darkness. “Tarley?” She stretched her body, uncurling it, and basking in the gloriousness of warmth and rest. Her hand dropped against something unforgiving, her head pressed against a wall. She moaned, disoriented, and grabbed hold of the mound under her quilt trying to figure out what had crawled into bed with her. “I’ve always enjoyed a good fondling, but I prefer it being reciprocal.” Tarley’s eyes snapped open at the foreign sound—a man’s voice with just the hint of an accent with which she wasn’t familiar. Skin. That’s what her eyes focused on. Lots of it. An arm. A shoulder. A scruffy jaw in need of a shave as she raised her gaze. Full lips arched with a smile, the bottom slightly fuller though the pronounced arches of the upper. He was grinning, and his eyes—a myriad of colors—were darkened with a ring of deep green at the edges. Realizing she was flush against him, holding him, Tarley jerked back, scrambling to the opposite side of the ten, only there wasn’t enough room to maneuver. She regretted the quick movement, her body protesting with aches and pains of not enough sleep. “Ollie. I–” She couldn’t meet his gaze. “You were asleep.” Her cheeks heated realizing she’d been holding him in her sleep. Holding onto him the night she’d been trying to save him flashed in her mind reminding her she’d held him before. To save him, she snapped at her inner self. Her eyes danced across the quilt until she found the bravery to meet his gaze.
Giveaway! --
Mistle Text
Only 99¢ for a limited time! -- SNEAK PEEK: “My boss needs a personal shopper for Christmas, and I’ve already told him I know the very best one in Manhattan.” Toni gives me an open-mouthed smile, clearly expecting me to jump up and down. “Your boss. As in Archibald Snooty Pants the Forty-Second?” I ask, pursing my lips. She opens her mouth, but I cut her off with one finger in the air. “You complain about the man all the time.” “It’s not like he’s a horrible person, he’s just a one trick pony—all work and no play. Plus, it’s not like you’ll have to work side-by-side with him or anything. You probably won’t even have to see him.” “I’m not a personal shopper,” I tell her. “Unless his family and friends want ramen noodles or discount t-shirts from the guy who sells them out of his trunk in front of my apartment building, I would have no idea what to buy.” “Yeah, well, Archie doesn’t know that.” She pumps her eyebrows up and down like a comedian. “Toni, you told me the guy was a rich stuck-up preppy from the Hamptons. While I would love nothing more than to make some extra money, I don’t have the foggiest notion how to shop for rich people.” “So watch some holiday episodes of Real Housewives and see what they buy each other. He’ll tell you how much to spend on each person. Come on, Holl, it’s not brain surgery. It’s shopping. You know how to shop. And you need the money.” “What if he hates me?” I despise feeling so pathetic, but I’m totally out of my league here. “Then he hates you. So what? Believe me when I tell you, Archibald Harrington only thinks about work. You can’t take anything he says personally.” Dread slams into me like a wrecking ball. “How much do you think I can make?” “Enough to pay for Christmas and at least the next three months of Faith’s preschool tuition. How can you pass that up?” The answer is, I can’t. And if it means working for a cranky billionaire, then Toni is right. I’ll do whatever I have to do in order to take care of Faith. I just can’t guarantee I’ll like it. “Fine,” I tell her. “How many gifts am I supposed to buy?” “He’ll need all of his family gifts, which include his godfather’s family. He’s spending Christmas with them in Newport. He wants you to cover his business gifts, as well. The VIPs are starred, meaning those particular gifts need to be extra-amazing. I’ve also made you a list of everything that I want, so I don’t wind up with another Monte Blanc pen. I’ve already sold three of those suckers on eBay and I only get a fraction of what they’re worth.” “I don’t even know what a Monte Blanc pen is.” My chest tightens like I’m not getting enough oxygen. She hands me a piece of paper. “This is a list of websites to check out. You can order everything and have it delivered here.” “Why can’t I just have everything sent to his office? What am I going to do with it?” After taking a healthy swig of white zinfandel, Toni says, “You’re going to wrap everything up and make it look like Santa himself cracked the whip on the gift-wrapping elves. Once you have everything purchased and ready, I’ll send a car to pick the gifts up.” “You’ll send a car, will you?” I tease. “Yeah, well, I can do those fancy things in the name of my boss.” “How am I going to pay for everything?” I ask. “I have about two hundred dollars of credit left on my card. I don’t think that’s going to cut it.” Toni opens her purse and hands me a shiny black credit card. “There’s no limit, so if you don’t mind doing a little jail time, you could have a lot of fun.” “No limit? I can’t imagine such a thing.” I fantasize about what damage I could do with plastic like this. Not only could I pay for Faith’s school for the rest of the year, but I could also get my mom into one of those nursing homes that has a hair salon and restaurant. I could upgrade to a two-bedroom apartment so Faith doesn’t have to sleep in the closet anymore, and I could even splurge and buy myself some real leather gloves. “You’re imagining, aren’t you?” Toni jolts me out of my daydream. “I most certainly am. The first thing I’d do is buy Faith whatever winter coat she wanted and then I’d take her out to a nice restaurant.” Toni rolls her eyes. “If you’re going down for a crime, you’ve got to think bigger.” I stare at the card for a second, then look back up at Toni. “How can you stand working for someone who has so much? Don’t you just want to steal cash out of his wallet once in a while?” I don’t really have the heart of a felon, I’m just tired of always being broke. “The nice thing about Archie is that even though he has the personality of a killer shark, he’s generous. He has a Friday lunch catered for his staff every week, and he makes sure to float us enough extras that none of us are tempted to steal from him. He’s a good businessman.” “Even though he’s a stuck-up preppy?” I ask for clarification. “Exactly.” I look at the list of stores she thinks I should shop at—Tiffany’s, Saks Fifth Avenue, Harrods, The House of Bijan … “What’s my budget?” She hands me another piece of paper. The handwriting isn’t hers, so I’m guessing it’s Archie’s. “He wants me to spend four thousand dollars on his mother?!” “Yup. He wants her to have two gifts. One of them needs to be the main. The other can be fancy ass chocolates or something.” “Right, but probably not gas station chocolates.” “Quit stressing, Holls, you’ve got this.” I don’t know why, but for the life of me I can’t see this ending well… 
Giveaway! --
My thoughts:
Jingle Bells...jingle bells...jingle bells... In the words of one of my favourite authors Jessica Redland Let the festive fabulousness begin... The book was absolutely delightful and it put me in a festive mood straightaway -luckily, it's only about 6 weeks left until Christmas! Holly is sweet, honest, and generous, but her life is quite hard. Determined to be the best aunt/legal guardian for her five-year-old niece Faith who lost both of her parents in an accident, Holly puts her dreams on hold and works three jobs to make sure Faith has everything she needs. Still, there's no hiding the fact that they arejust making the endsmeet. So, when her best friend Toni, a personal assistant of a workaholic bussinessman Archibald Harrington, hears that her boss needs a personal shopper to find 'thoughtful' Christmas presents for his family and acquaintances, Toni suggests Holly. After all, how hard can it be to splash a bit of cash on fabulous gifts and in return make sure Faith's school fees are paid for three months in advance? It's just that Holly knows nothing at all about Archie's family and therefore needs his advice. A few texts now and again won't hurt, will they? As it turns out, Archie may need a bit more help from Holly-a fake date for a holiday with Archie's family. I loved all the characters in this Christmas tale- especially, Faith who was just adorable, Archie, who, despite his grumpy reputation, is a decent guy, and, of course, Holly! There are lots of fascinating secondary characters that add more colour and humour to this classic Hallmark love story. This was my first book from this writing duo, although I'd had quite a few romcoms from Whitney by my metaphoric Kindle belt. All I can say, the writing flows and it's clear Whitney and Melanie are a dream team! Thank you to NetGalley, Xpresso Book Tours and the authors for the review copy, provided in exchange for an honest opinion. |
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