Wicked Knight 2
-- EXCERPT: Exclusive First Look! “You’re bleeding, Maxim. Let me look.” Anatoli gestured for Maxim to sit. Maxim raised his hand and stopped him in his tracks. “No. Let my wife tend to my wounds.” “Ooo-kay.” Anatoli looked as confused as I was. “Leave us.” Maxim braced his good arm on his knees and released a breath. “Everything you need is in the bathroom,” Anatoli said to me then turned to leave. He paused when he spotted the unhinged door. “I’ll get someone to fix that.” “Thanks.” I smiled at him. The wife in me wanted to tell my husband to go to hell. But the doctor in me was already thinking of all the things that could go wrong if I didn’t check on Maxim. He was tired because his body was working overtime, trying to heal itself. But also, because he just cracked open a heavy wooden door with his foot. Cursing under my breath, I strode to the bathroom and got all the essentials to wash out his wounds. When I returned, Maxim hadn’t moved an inch. “We should rinse your wounds twice a day, then cover them. They’ll heal faster that way.” I approached him tentatively, the way one would do with a wild animal because that was exactly what he was. My gaze swept from the splint and stained gauze to the blood seeping through his white dress shirt in two different places. “I need to take a look first.” He nodded. With a sigh, he undid all the buttons, then sat back to let me help him with it. I pulled the fabric up then pushed it over his shoulders. The soft hair on his chest bristled the skin on my arms and chest. To my surprise, the gentle exchange eased my nerves. “Getting out of bed today was a bad idea.” I picked at the gauze and removed it. “I had things to attend to.” “Right. You had that illegal wedding to go to.” I shot back. “Yes.” He chuckled. “I did.” “This shouldn’t hurt. It’s just water.” I squeezed the squirt bottle and rinsed his entire shoulder. Even if fear wasn’t a big part of the equation anymore, I still couldn’t get myself to look at him. Not even when he cocked his head to look at me. His hot breath left a warm trail that ran from my cheek all the way down to my hip. He gripped his thigh with long fingers as his inspection of me continued. “Little late for that, don’t you think?” I sneered. “What’s that?” “Buyer’s remorse.” “I didn’t pay for you.” He took a lock of my hair. “Your hair is shorter.” “I cut it after…” I’d cut it shortly after Luca left, but Maxim didn’t need to know that. I swallowed and bit my tongue for offering him intimate details of my life. “You were spying on me.” “Not for long.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Your scent reminds me of something. But I can’t remember what?” “Probably your dungeon. I’ve showered six times since I left and I can’t seem to scrub the stench off me.” I shuffled back. “I need you to get up to get the other two sutures.” Slowly, as if he were trying not to scream in pain, he rose to his feet. When I stepped into his circle, he bent down to whisper in my ear, “You smell fine to me.” The jittery energy intensified and magnified my senses. I could feel the air between us shifting, his breath on my neck, and the sandalwood scent on his skin. Though I kept my head down, I could feel his eyes on me, regarding me with curiosity. He was the wounded one. But he watched me so intently, it reminded me of a predator spying on his prey. “Stop messing with your splint. Or your nose will not heal properly.” I pointed at the blood fingerprints on it. “It itches.” He grunted. “How long before I can take it off.” “How long has it been. It usually takes about two weeks.” I squirted his side. He flinched, reaching for my wrist. I froze, keeping my gaze on the stitches and the blood running down his side. And because my brain hates me, I thought of our impending wedding night. Though by now, I was sure that would not happen today. The man could barely move without wincing. As formidable as he was, and though he acted like a beast, he was still human. His fingers slid up my arm. “This one hurts the most.” “I bet. There was a lot of debris to clear out. I had to dig deep.” I freed my hand. “It is healing fine. I can give you something for the pain.” “Fuck.” He made to touch his wound then stuffed his hand in the pocket of his trousers. “I don’t know if I should risk taking more drugs from you. Will you poison me this time?” In his defense, I had considered the option. “Not tonight.” He scoffed. “If Anatoli hadn’t come to his senses, I’d still be unconscious.” So Anatoli was the one who foiled our plans. Coward. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I shrugged. “Maybe you too will come to your senses soon.” I strode to the bathroom and rummaged through the medical kit Anatoli had left for me. I went through a bunch of bottles until I found a strong pain killer. Something to knock Maxim out for the night. And every night after that, until I found a way out of this place. “For the pain.” I offered him two pills and a glass of water. “Am I so ugly, you can’t even look at me?” He took the meds and knocked them back. “My senses are fine, by the way.” “Right. Because kidnapping a woman for revenge is the epitome of mental health.” I turned to leave. He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me toward him. “You have no idea what your family is capable of.” “You’re wrong. I know exactly what they can do.” I jerked to free myself, but he held me tighter. I was no match for his strength. I exhaled. “One day my love will find me. He will make sure you pay.” “Your love?” He let out a dark chuckle. “Yes.” I panted a breath. “And when he does, he will chop you up and feed you to your dogs.” “He sounds violent.” Luca was an erudite, a distinguished professor despite all my efforts to corrupt him. He wasn’t a brute like Maxim, punching his way through doors. But regardless of their extreme opposites, Luca would find a way to save me. I knew he would. I just had to hang on a little longer. “He will come for me. You can be sure of that.” “The only thing I can be sure of, princess, is that it’s time for bed. And since Prince Charming isn’t here, I guess I would have to do.” Don’t Forget to enter the Goodreads Giveaway for a chance to win an Early copy of Wicked Knight, Book #2: https://geni.us/WickedKnightBook2
Moonflower: Vampires of Los Angeles
-- EXCERPT: Terror. Pain. Then darkness. This is how it starts. The only link to the world around you is the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. Your hearing seems to be the only sense still functioning, while sight, smell, touch, and taste seem oddly suspended. You vaguely realize something is wrong with that pounding. You become aware that your pulse is slowing, beat by beat, which rapidly absorbs all of your attention. Soon, far sooner than should be possible, you have reached that critical point where that little muscle—the strongest in the human body—struggles to keep you from crossing the threshold dividing the world of life from what awaits you at death. But something else is terribly wrong: there is no warm light to dissolve into, there are no familiar faces waiting to usher you into paradise. There is only darkness and a failing heart that tries to pump what is no longer there. The terror within you surges as you realize that, should your heart fail, this great, dark oblivion of nothingness will become permanent. And all that is you—your very essence of self—will be gone. And your heart, most assuredly, is failing. It is at this crucial moment, when time seems to stand still, that you are offered a choice—a choice that is really no choice at all since the basic animal instinct to stay alive now dominates higher forms of reason. You do not hesitate. You embrace the offer with a ferocity that speaks to the predatory nature once so close to the surface in humanity, though long since buried by generations of social, sedentary living and the trappings of “civilization.” Then comes the oblivion, but not the one you expected—not the one which serves as the fate of everyone else. You are in limbo, with no beginning and no ending. No up and no down. But your sense of self is mercifully intact. You are still you. Here, in this mental womb, you remain for days until— if you are one of the lucky ones—you open your eyes for the first time to a world utterly transformed. And, as you lay there staring into the brilliant colors of the night, you slowly realize that nothing will ever be the same. This, dear readers, is what we call The Birth. My name is Sonia. GIVEAWAY! Road to Ruin
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GIVEAWAY! From the blurb: The third and final delightful installment in the Merriwell Sister's Regency rom-com series.Miss Venus Merriwell has been waiting for her prince to come since the tender age of fourteen. She wants a man who is selfless, academic like her, and free from all the wretched vices her gambler father enjoyed far too much before he left the Merriwell sisters practically destitute. Unfortunately, after a slew of romantic disappointments, there is still no sign of that prince at twenty-three and the only one true love of her life is the bursting-at-the-seams orphanage in Covent Garden that she works tirelessly for. An orphanage that desperately needs to expand into the empty building next door. For Galahad Sinclair, gambling isn’t just his life, it’s in his blood. He grew up and learned the trade at his grandfather’s knee in a tavern on the far away banks of the Hudson in New York. But when fate took all that away and dragged him across the sea to London, it made sense to set up shop here. He’s spent five years making a success out of his gaming hell in the sleazy docks of the East End. Enough that he can finally afford to buy the pleasure palace of his dreams—and where better than in the capital’s sinful heart, Covent Garden? The only fly in his ointment is the perfect building he’s just bought to put it in also happens to be right next door to the orphanage run by his cousin’s wife’s youngest sister. A pious, disapproving and unsettling siren he has avoided like the plague since she flattened him five years ago… While Venus and Galahad lock horns over practically everything, and while her malevolent orphans do their darndest to sabotage his lifelong dream, can either of them take the ultimate gamble—and learn to love thy neighbor? Publication Date: November 7th, 2023 Publisher: St.Martin's Griffin Romance/ Romcom 9781250787804, 1250787807 My thoughts:
We're back in the delightful world of Virginia Heath's regency romance. This is the third book in the Merriwell sisters series and if you liked the first two books (Never Fall for Your Fiance and Never Rescue a Rogue), you must have been waiting impatiently for this charming finale. It was fantastic to see our beloved Minerva and Diana Merriwell happily married and doing fine, but is there her own Prince Charming on the horizon for Vee, the youngest of these three strong-willed, independent, adorable women? Vee (Venus) loves her work in the Covent Garden Orphanage. It's not that she has completely given up on finding a suitable marriage prospect, it's just that she's had her share of heartbreak and disappointments and now firmly believes she needs someone who would appreciate her intellect and value her opinions. So what if everyone keeps telling her that Lord Dorchester is an insufferable bore whocares a bit too much for hearing his own voice? even her brother-in-law's cousin Galahad Sinclaire, a notorious troublemaker, is on the mission to change her mind, not that he would ever have a chance to do that. She doesn't need a love match when she can have a marriage of minds. But what if she can have both? Galahad Sinclaire has finally had a break. He's been working hard to put aside a bit of money that he could invest and here is a perfect opportunity. Three properties in Covent Garden that with a bit of rennovation can be transformed into his kind of business and finally give him a steady sort of income. The only problem is that they are adjacent to an orphanage...the one where his cousin's sister-in-law happens to teach. Is it finally time to bury the hatchet and stop teasing this delightfully opinionated creature? I loved both of our protagonists- they are funny, well-developed and have a heart of gold, despite (or thanks to) having a rough start in life. There's undeniable chemistry and lots and lots of humour to please even the most demanding romance reader. You get drawn into the story from page one and never want to leave this wonderful world created by Virginia Heath. The narrative flows easily and you can't help sympathizing and falling in love with the characters and wishing them a happily-ever-after. If you're still debating whether regency romance can be as engaging and entertaining as contemporary romance, try Virginia Heath's books. A word of warning: they are dangerously addictive and full of laugh-out-loud moments. The good news is that the will always brighten your day and we all need that from time to time. Looking forward to Virginia Heath's next book! Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the ARC provided in exchange for an honest opinion. The Billionaire’s Devotion
-- EXCERPT: “Want to hear a joke about construction—?” “You’re still working on it,” I pointed at Dad and said the punchline before he could. “You’ve caught onto me, kid.” We laughed together far longer than the joke deserved. Then Dad’s expression turned serious. “It’s good to see you happy, princess.” My happiness surprised me, too. I’d thought my shattered heart wouldn’t ever know joy again. But Paul surprised me. My love for Paul Crane was tangled in my soul. Rooted. Boundless. Even though it hurt that he wasn’t here with me now, he left me with his love. His confession came as a light in my darkest hour. He was broken by our loss and exposed, and so was I. We were vulnerable. Powerless. No walls could rise in that despair. And he let me in and told me those words I so longed to hear from him.
GIVEAWAY! Death By Theft
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- EXCERPT: Excited, I entered the nursery barn with Shaneika Mary Todd leading the way. It was still very early, and the mares were with their offspring in their stalls, quietly munching on hay. They would be let out when the grass had dried. However, kicking and neighing erupted from one stall. Shaneika shot me a worried look. “That’s Jean Harlow. I know her cry.” We both rushed to the stall. “What’s wrong?” I asked, seeing Shaneika’s alarmed facial expression. Shaneika swung open the stall door and pushed a nervous Jean Harlow out of the way. I grabbed the mare’s halter and led her out into the barn aisle. She was jumpy and hard to handle, so I shouted for aid. “Can someone help us, please?” Shaneika ran out of the stall and began checking the others frantically. “What is wrong?” I asked again, handing Jean Harlow over to a nursery groom who led the horse back into her stall. Shaneika screamed, “WHAT’S WRONG? WHAT’S WRONG? THE FOAL IS MISSING. THAT’S WHAT IS WRONG!”
GIVEAWAY! Harleigh Sinclair and the Raiders of the Lost Ankh
-- EXCERPT: I’m afraid of the usual: heights, snakes, dirty toilets. Crazy psycho serial killers? Maybe I should’ve been more afraid of them as I walked through the halls of San Antonio’s max security jail. Detective Mendoza marched alongside me, her stilettos clicking with each step. Her penciled eyebrows didn’t flinch as she stared straight ahead. Generously applied makeup couldn’t hide the wrinkles lining her eyes or the creases around her mouth. She stayed quiet as we paced behind the guards, which clued me in to her current mood. Pure panic. Nothing else would’ve made her speechless. Wild guess here, but I imagined trying to get a confession from Texas’s most notorious serial killer was a tad bit stressful. Harsh lights gave the linoleum floors a sterile feeling. I had to suppress a shiver as we passed by the cells. Lean, hungry eyes fixated on me from behind the bars. One of the inmates, a bald man with a tattooed face, glanced at my hands. His eyes widened. My red leather gloves creased as I flexed my fingers. I stifled the jolt of electricity coursing through my veins. Yeah. Neotact here. Keep your distance. I was used to the stares by now. We reached a room barricaded by a steel door. Keys jangled as one of the guards unlocked the latch. “I won’t force you to do this,” Mendoza said. “Leave now and I won’t blame you.” “I’ll be fine.” After everything life had thrown at me, it took more than a little to scare me. She gave me a shrewd glance. “I’ve already warned you about him. You know what’s at stake, and what he’s accused of…” She trailed off, and though unwanted, the bodies of the mutilated teens intruded on my memories. Beheaded. Their hands surgically removed. I took a deep, cleansing breath and pushed the images away. “Don’t let him get into your head whatever you do,” she finished. I flexed my hands. “I’m not planning on it.” “Fine.” Her eyes flicked to the door. “Just be careful in there, all right?” “Aren’t I always?” I said with an overconfident smile. She sighed with annoyance. “Sinclair, he’s not like the others. You understand that?” I gave her my best stern glare. “I got it.” Mendoza stood tall and ran a hand down a crease in her jacket, returning to her usual demeanor, all business in her navy suit, her hair pulled back in a tight bun with enough gel to make it shine. “I’m counting on you to get a confession. Otherwise, he walks.” “Trust me, Mendoza. I got this.” “You’d better.” She narrowed her eyes, then nodded to a guard, and he opened the door. Through the open doorway, I spotted the prisoner. Not that I was scared or anything, but this guy gave a serious creepy vibe. A single bulb buzzed overhead. Metal clasps pinned his hands to the tabletop where he sat, and cuffs linked his ankles to chains bolted to the floor. Gray streaked his unwashed blond hair. Dark eyes peered from a pockmarked face, boring into me with a hatred I could feel from here. Like I said. Creepy.
GIVEAWAY! The Cruel Dark
-- EXCERPT: I’d never questioned the presence of my wits more than the moment I stood in the frigid morning air and watched the hired car arrive. The vehicle, sleek and ostentatious, was said to be capable of going fifty miles an hour, and I pretended it was the prospect of that speed making my stomach do somersaults. The car pulled to a smooth stop, and a tall, ruddy driver unfolded himself from the front seat, introduced himself briefly as Joseph Dempsey, and went to collect my bags. It was short work; I had only one. I wasn’t a woman of means. As the gentleman loaded my valise into the trunk, I ran my bare fingers along the smooth deep sea blue of the wheel hull. This was, undoubtedly, the worst decision I’d ever made, but there were few options, and this was by far the least evil of them. I glanced over my shoulder to the doorway of the little bookshop I’d come to know as home, where the stooped owner, Mr. Helm, had appeared, his blue eyes uncharacteristically red-rimmed. I’d never seen him on the verge of tears, and my heart constricted painfully. I rushed to him, pulling a thin cotton handkerchief from my pocket. It wasn’t in his character to embrace, so he enveloped both of my hands in his. They were large hands, covered in the ink stains of his trade as an antique book restorer, a business he had been teaching me for the past year despite his once firmly held belief that restoration was not for women. Mr. Helm had been a tall man in his youth, but the war and many years hunched over a workman’s table had scuttled his stature. I didn’t need to lift my chin to look at his face, which was working to arrange itself into something less aggrieved. I was glad for his trying, because I would call off everything if even one tear rolled down his cheek.
GIVEAWAY! War of the Land
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