Friday, February 27, 2015

Review: Warrior and the Wanderer by Elizabeth Holcombe

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BOOK INFO

TITLE – Warrior and the Wanderer AUTHOR – Elizabeth Holcombe GENRE – Scottish historical romance/time travel PUBLICATION DATE – December 23, 2014 LENGTH (Pages/# Words) - 249 pages PUBLISHER – Amazon Kindle COVER ARTIST – Fiona Jayde Media Designs

BOOK SYNOPSIS

An impossible adventure. A fierce, undeniable desire.
Infamous Scottish bad boy, Ian MacLean, takes a road trip to sort out his mess of a life and lands five hundred years in the past. He is taken hostage into what he is certain is a band of extreme Highland role players. The only bright light in this strange situation is his insanely beautiful warrior-princess captor who wields her claymore as well as her fiery feral charms.
To gain a strong ally for her clan, flame-haired Bess Campbell reluctantly married a powerful Highland chief who had no intentions of uniting the clans. After murdering her clan chief, he chains her to a rock condemning her to die in the rising tide, until a strangely dressed but startlingly handsome man emerges from the waves like a mythical selkie and rescues her. Bess learns her most odd savior has the same name as her murdering husband—MacLean—and makes him her prisoner.
Fearing she may have captured a madman, Bess forces Ian to journey through Scotland chasing down a killer. She finds Ian’s strange ways oddly endearing and uncommonly useful to her quest for revenge. Ian struggles to find a way back to his time, while being pulled deeper into his role in the past and his undeniable attraction for the fiery Highland warrior princess, Bess Campbell.
Warrior & Wanderer - Book Cover

Review:

This was a great book. I'm a sucker for books set in the past that are done right and this is one of those books. I enjoyed the fact that it was Ian who was the time traveler. The relationship that develops between them is one that time has no control over. Everything aside they are just your average girl and guy. I couldn't put the book down and was not ready for their story to end.

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EXCERPT

She knelt at his feet and began smoothing the plaid across the cold stone floor, felt him watching her every move. “Ye’d best pay close attention,” she said, “because I’m no’ gonnae do this for ye again.”
“Too humiliating?”
“Should be humiliating for ye, to have me show ye how to properly dress yourself.” “Actually, I find it charming, in a weird sort of way.”
Bess ignored the last comment and folded the bottom third of the plaid into thick pleats. She slipped the rope under them.
“Lay on the plaid,” she said. “Place yer waist at the rope in case ye’ve forgotten.” “Oh, yer sarcasm tears me apart, Blaze.”
“If it would help to tear down yer arrogance then we’d be better served, and stop calling me Blaze.” He grimaced as he folded his body down to kneel beside her.
“Your wound…,” she began.
“Is nothing,” he said behind clenched teeth as he lowered his body on top of the plaid.
He rested supine before her. Bess drew in a deep breath. She hovered over him, grasped the ends on the rope in her fists, tied it about his waist, and then adjusted the pleats under the belt.
Ian moaned from far back in his throat. Perspiration glistened across his forehead.
“Ye claim your wound is nothing, d’ye?” she chided, loosening the rope belt. Ian gave her a small forced smile.
She continued to dress him. Her fingers smoothed the wool over his hard waist, over his lean hips, and down the ridge of muscle on his thighs. Feigning indifference was the most difficult part of her task.
“Ye may stand now,” she said. “I’ll help ye.”
“No thanks,” he said struggling to sit up, “you’ve done quite enough.”
She ignored his protest.
“Bursting your stitches is no’ a sign of bravery, ’tis a sign of stupidity.” She took up his left arm and placed it over her shoulders. “Stand with me.”
“I can do it on my own,” he said.
“Ye’re just another arrogant bastard, a typical MacLean,” she said helping him anyway.
“Have you ever thought that all MacLean’s aren’t forged from the same iron as your husband?” he asked.
“Ye betrayed my trust, so aye, I do think all MacLean’s are alike,” she said.
“But what sort of man would I be if I didn’t try to escape?” he asked.
She paused. He had her there. Of course she expected he would try to escape. That was why she had chained and tied him up in the first place.
Ian on his feet, Bess took a step backward. She could not help but allow her gaze to fall down the long length of his body and discovered her task was not complete.
She bent down, and scooped up the rest of the plaid dangling from his waist and tossed it over his shoulder. He remained silent, a blessing, as she tucked the end of the plaid under the rope belt. Task done, Bess surveyed Ian, and her knees suddenly weakened.
Dear God, she thought, he’s the Highlander of my dreams, of my heart. He is the one who could make love possible, if he wasnae so arrogant and odd, and I wasnae so bound to my clan. If ‘twas another time…

AUTHOR BIO

Elizabeth Holcombe’s background includes Bachelors and Masters Degrees in Fine Arts and Art History from Virginia Commonwealth University in her hometown of Richmond. She has taught elementary school and adult education courses on architecture in Rochester, Minnesota, and then worked as a fine arts museum registrar at the Flint Institute of Arts in Michigan.
Although she’s been writing since age ten, it wasn’t until after the birth of her son that she began penning book-length fiction. A past president of Washington Romance Writers, Elizabeth has also organized two highly successful seminars on romance for The Smithsonian Associates.
Elizabeth’s first published Scottish romance novel, Heaven and the Heather (originally published by Berkley/Jove of Penguin Putnam), was a finalist for Best Historical Romance in the Holt Medallion, nominated by Romantic Times
Reviewer’s Choice for Best First Historical Romance and the Dorothy Parker Reviewer’s Choice Award.
Elizabeth lives in Falls Church, Virginia with her husband and son. She is also the proud owner of Dime Store Chic, ranked in the top 50 for vintage shops on Etsy.com. When not writing or crafting her mixed media creations, Elizabeth frequents local estate sales and flea markets.

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Monday, February 23, 2015

Blitz: Accepting Fate by Brandy L. Rivers

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BOOK INFORMATION

TITLE – Accepting Fate SERIES – Others of Seattle: Book 3 AUTHOR – Brandy L Rivers GENRE – Adult Paranormal Romance PUBLICATION DATE – 2-23-2015 LENGTH (Pages/# Words) – around 70ish k PUBLISHER – Brandy L Rivers COVER ARTIST – Brandy L Rivers
Accepting Fate - Book Cover

BOOK SYNOPSIS

Accept fate, or it destroys you...
Michael Nights hides his true nature. To protect his first love, his magic broke free, terrifying Amanda so badly she left. That day convinced him he was the monster she claimed. Horrified by the damage he could cause, he’s vowed to keep his power locked away.
Gwen Fate meets Mike at a party. One look and she’s captivated. Inherently curious, she wants to discover all of his secrets. What she learns compels her to help, whether or not he wants to embrace what he is.
Amanda deLuna has changed, but was it for the better? She arrives back in Seattle and offers Mike what he always wanted.
After finally learning to control his power, Mike will have to choose. The life he wished for? Or his fate?
Accepting Fate - Book Wrap

BUY & TBR LINKS

AUTHOR BIO

Brandy L Rivers is the author of the Others of Edenton and Others of Seattle series. There are more Others of Edenton and Others of Seattle books in the works. As an avid reader, Brandy has always loved writing. She became serious about it as a stay-at-home-mother. She has a file full of manuscripts she plans to edit and put out there eventually. She lives in Western Washington with her husband and three kids, where she is already working on future stories in each of the series and several other projects.

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Friday, February 20, 2015

Review: Kissed at Midnight by Samantha Holt

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BOOK INFORMATION

TITLE – Kissed at Midnight AUTHOR – Samantha Holt GENRE – Historical Romance PUBLICATION DATE – 18th February LENGTH (Pages/# Words) – 60,000
Kissed At Midnight - Cover

BOOK SYNOPSIS

August Avery, a renowned civil engineer, has found himself the sole custodian of his cousin’s six month old daughter and he needs assistance—fast. He understands how to build railways, to construct bridges and to save the railway tycoons thousands of pounds. He doesn’t understand, however, how to care for a child.
When Ivy Davis turns up at his door looking for work, he believes his prayers are answered. If only the exotic, exuberant young woman did not prove to be such a distraction from his busy workload.
Unsure if she is even up to the task of looking after a baby, Ivy finds herself swayed by the handsome and slightly desperate August into working for him. With her singing career failing before it even started and no other talents, she decides looking after a young child cannot be so hard, surely?
But the child may turn out to be the least of her worries. Her handsome, brooding master seems to keep her awake more than the baby. Add to that her desire to achieve her dreams of singing on stage and the machinations of the indomitable Mrs. Pepperwhite who sees her as competition for August’s hand, Ivy finds this simple job growing harder by the day—as does her desire for her master...

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Review: I really enjoyed this book. The relationship that develops between Ivy and August is refreshing.
 
Review: I enjoyed this story. I loved the fact that both main characters were independent people and can take care of themselves but still found themselves want and needing the other. Things got pretty steamy between Ivy and August. However, it was refreshing to see that August was very respectful of Ivy and wouldn't just take what he wanted. They say if something like, you love something let it go and it if it comes back to you it was yours, well this story is a good example of that.

EXCERPT

Ivy darted a look at the door as she eased herself down onto the bed beside her master. The housekeeper could have no reason to come upstairs but if she caught her in the master’s room—on his bed no less—she could be in quite a pickle.
“Mr.—” A snore escaped his mouth and she shook her head. “Oh dear, Mr. Avery. You are the one who is in a pickle I think. Or more likely utterly foxed.”
Leaning over, she went to grasp his hand to study the damage and froze when he grunted and rolled towards her. His arm landed near her backside on the bed and his head was almost on her lap. Ivy attempted to take his hurt hand from behind her but he twined it out of her grasp and released a low mumble. She gasped when his hand curved around her backside. She wore only her chemise and her drawers. Mr. Avery’s warm hand fairly burned through the cotton, feeling as though she would wake up with a handprint on her bottom.
She twisted to yank his hand away, only to end up with his head pressed against the side of her breast. Mr Avery nuzzled his face against her breast and she stilled. She should draw away, press him back, but for some reason her body refused to cooperate. Hands to his head, she found his hair to be soft and thick.
Oh dear. One part of her body seemed to be working—her fingers. They twined into the softness, so at odds with the rest of him, from his stern features to what she suspected was a body that rivalled the statues of London. He released a muffled groan against her and she heard him inhale deeply.
“Smell so good,” he murmured.
Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. She was going to lose her job not two days into it if she was not careful. Her nipples were tight and hard. Lush heat rolled through her as he burrowed closer and his hand splayed across her back to hold her to him.
A creak from somewhere else in the house startled her into action. She jerked back and clasped his wrist to force his hand back. At least in his foxed state he wasn’t particularly strong. She had no doubt if he really wanted to keep hold of her, he could, but had he been sober, she was positive he’d want nothing to do with the governess.  A man like Mr Avery likely enjoyed the company of women less... interesting-looking than her. Blonde ones with soft features and a delicate manner.
He rolled onto his back, a grin cracking his face. His eyes were at half-mast and she wasn’t sure what amused him. Recalling her original reason for being on the bed, she grasped his hand and inspected the cut. It had already stopped bleeding so couldn’t be deep. Ivy rolled her eyes to herself. All this for a tiny scratch. At least he was so foxed he would never recall any of it.
SamanthaHolt
AUTHOR BIO
Samantha lives in a small village in England with her gorgeous twin girls. She enjoys writing historical romance involving chivalrous knights, hot highlanders and cravatted men, but sometimes gets lured away by bad boy bikers, soldiers and other heroic modern men.
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Kissed At Midnight - Giveaway

GIVEAWAY PRIZES

Signed picture of Colin Firth as Mr Darcy 2 x Kindle copies of Once Upon a Rake Set of signed swag
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Wednesday, February 18, 2015

Face the Music a Dauntless Indies Anthology

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BOOK INFORMATION

TITLE – Face the Music SERIES – Dauntless Indies Anthologies AUTHORS  –  Brandy L Rivers,   Felicia Tatum,   Sarah M. Cradit, Michele Breaux-Rowley,  Michelle Graves GENRE – Anthology, paranormal, contemporary and romance shorts PUBLICATION DATE – 1-5-2015 LENGTH (Pages/# Words) – 49k PUBLISHER – Dauntless Indies COVER ARTIST – Brandy L Rivers
DI Ebook

BOOK SYNOPSIS

One sprawling music festival Five jaw-dropping stories
Seattle is a mecca for the music, arts, and eclectic. Every year, the Emerald City hosts the highly anticipated Bumbershoot, four days of unique bands, colorful artists, and untold memories.
What better place to find, or lose yourself, than this melting pot of culture?
Slip into the crowds as the music draws you in, but beware: not everything is as it seems. Delicious secrets and startling legends abound.
DI Rough

BUY & TBR LINKS

 
Review: I have read most of these authors in the past so I had expectations. The authors did not let me down. I really enjoyed this grouping of stories. This is a great way to be introduced to authors you may not have read before or to see something from authors you know and love. I would recommend this for people who are looking for new authors because who get a chance to see each others writing style and get your interest peaked to search them out and read more by them.

AUTHOR FOLLOW LINKS

Face The Music - Red Queen Teaser
Author - Brandy L Rivers
Face The Music - Dark Blessings Teaser
Author - Sarah M Cradit
Face The Music - Felicia Tatum Teaser
Author - Felicia Tatum
Face The Music - The Trouble With Partners Teaser
Author - Michelle Graves
Face The Music - Michele Breaux-Rowley Teaser
Author - Michele Breaux-Rowley

 Dauntless Indies

GIVEAWAY PRIZES

Face the Music paperback – From Brandy L Rivers Paperback – Winners choice of 1 of Brandy L River’s books (excluding the box set) - From Brandy L Rivers Ebook – winner’s choice of Crimson and Clover series – From Sarah M Cradit Ebook – the Ship has Sunk and ebook collection of the Chronicles of Izzy – From Michelle Graves Ebook – the Vessel – From Felicia Tatum Paperback – Face the Music – From Michele Breaux-Rowley
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Friday, February 13, 2015

Blitz: Interference by Dakota Madison

interference review blitz

INTERFERENCE

Book Title: Interference Author: Dakota Madison Genre: New Adult Sports Romance Release Date: January 2015 Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions
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Book Blurb
USA TODAY Bestselling Author Dakota Madison returns with another spicy sports romance. This story set in the world of college basketball. Neuroscience student SEDONA MILLER is perfectly imperfect. She’s slightly nerdy and slightly eccentric, but completely brilliant.
When an unfortunate accident leaves Sedona with an injured arm and she’s fired from her part-time job shelving books at the university library she has to find a new gig fast. The only job available mid-semester is working as a tutor for the athletic academic center. And the notorious bad boy of the university’s basketball team, JESSE WALKER, is the one and only guy on the new tutor’s roster But when SEDONA discovers a secret that could ruin the school’s winning basketball team doing the right thing could mean destroying the only guy she’s ever loved.
excerpt
When I finally hit the last room in a long row of rooms I see a guy sitting there looking bored and staring at two fast food containers in front of him on the table.
He glances up at me when I enter. The first thing I notice is his piercing green eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen eyes that green on a human being that weren’t Photoshopped
The second thing I notice is his messy, light brown hair. It doesn’t look like it’s been combed it in a week. It makes me wonder if it’s some new hair trend or if he just doesn’t bother to style it. Not that I have too much room to talk when it comes to hair. My curly red mop has been the bane of my existence since I was a kid. About the only thing I can ever do with it is pull it back into a pony tail.
“Sedona?”
I nod.
“Have a seat.” He points to the chair right next to him.
I remember Lewis’s warning and take a seat across the table instead. I want to be as close to the door as possible. The guy is big and muscular and much more intimidating than I imagined he’d be.
My heart is thumping in my chest because his size and rough demeanor are making me nervous.
When he pushes one of the fast food containers in my direction I cringe. I rarely eat fast food and when I do it’s from Just Veggies, an organic vegetarian place near campus.
He doesn’t hesitate to open his container and take a bite of the messy burger that’s dripping some kind of white sauce all over his pile of fries.
My stomach turns in response.
“I bought you a burger.” He points to the second container he’s pushed in my direction. “Ambrose scheduled our sessions during lunch.”
I make a point of pushing the container back over to him. “No thank you.”
He frowns. “It’s from Frankie’s. Everybody loves Frankie’s burgers.”
“Clearly not everyone.”
His brows knit like he can’t believe I refused the food he bought.
“You don’t want it?” He actually sounds hurt.
“No, I don’t.”
“Why?”
I lift my book bag from the ground and point to one of the many political cause buttons I have covering the knitted tote my mom made for me.
He barely acknowledges it. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Now I’m the one who’s frowning. “Meat is murder. It’s a slogan. It means that I don’t eat animal flesh.”
“You’re one of those vegans?” He doesn’t bother hiding the condescension in his voice.
“Technically I’m a vegetarian. I eat free range, organic dairy products.”
“Fine. I’ll eat the burger.” He glares at me as he opens the second container and takes a huge bite of the burger.
I’m appalled until I notice that he slyly pushes both containers away and doesn’t take another bite of either burger.
“I guess I should have brought an apple for the teacher.”
“Only if it’s organic. And I’m not actually a teacher. I’m a tutor.”
We both stare at each other for a long moment. Awkward does not even begin to describe our pairing. We’re like two people from different planets trying to communicate when we don’t speak each other’s languages.
I remove a slip of paper from my bag. “Mr. Ambrose gave me your schedule of classes for the semester. You’re taking Film Appreciation, The History of Jazz, Advanced Yoga and Stress Management. What’s your major?”
He shrugs. “Undeclared right now. But I’ll probably go with Sports Management.”
“So these are Gen Ed classes?”
He cocks his head and looks confused.
“General Education classes,” I clarify. “Elective classes you need to take to fulfill requirements that aren’t directly related to your major.”
“I guess so.”
I’m a little disturbed by his lackadaisical attitude, but I let it go for the moment. We’re clearly not going to be able to develop much of a rapport so maybe it’s best just to get down to business.
“We’re just handed a class schedule,” he clarifies. “Assigned classes. We don’t pick them ourselves.”
“And they assigned you the History of Jazz? That’s the class that you’re having trouble with?”
“The dude who was supposed to teach the class croaked and they got this new chick who apparently doesn’t like basketball.”
There is so much wrong with his statement I don’t even know where to begin. “Might I suggest that you call your professors either professor or doctor and not chick.”
I bristle at my own use of the derogatory word, but I continue, “And what does her not liking basketball have to do with your performance in the class.”
At this he gives me a sly smile. “Let’s just say she’s not willing to play ball the way the other professors are.”
I’m not sure exactly what he means by that, but there seems to be some kind of sports reference that is lost on me.
“So you’re saying your other classes are going well and you’re just having trouble with the one class, History of Jazz?”
He leans back in his chair and eyes me for a few seconds before he nods. I don’t like when he looks at me like that. It’s like he’s examining some weird, new specimen and trying to make sense of it.
“All of my other teachers are huge basketball fans and they know I’m the in the starting lineup. I’m not sure what the jazz goddess’s problem is.” I take in a deep breath before I say something that’s sure to get me fired. “Why don’t we start by calling her Dr. Fisher? I think that might help. And why do you think she has a problem?”
“She doesn’t like basketball. That’s not normal. Everybody loves basketball. This entire campus lives and breathes the sport.”
“I don’t love basketball. I don’t even like it. Not even a little bit.”
He actually looks stunned for a moment. Like I slapped him. Then he regains his cocky composure.
“You’re one weird chick,” he mutters almost to himself, but still loud enough that I can hear him.
“Excuse me?” I say even though I heard him. I just didn’t like having an insult hurled at me by someone I don’t even know.
“You.Are.One.Weird.Chick.” His words are slower and louder as if I didn’t hear him the first time.
“I actually heard what you said. I just didn’t like it.”
A smug smirk appears on his face that I would love to slap right off if I could.
I continue. “In case you haven’t noticed I’m not a bird I’m a human being. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t refer to me as a chick.”
He bites his bottom lip as if he’s actually giving it some thought. Then he says, “You’re one weird woman. Is that better?”
“I’m not sure why you have to bring gender into the equation at all. Why not just call me a weird person?”
That makes him laugh. “You don’t care that I think you’re weird. You just don’t want me to call you a chick?”
“I’ve been weird my whole life. I’m used to it.”
“At least you’re willing to own it.”
“So did you bring your textbook with you or are you just going to spend the next ninety minutes taunting me?”
“I kind of like taunting you.”
Meet the Author
DAKOTA MADISON is a USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR. She has been writing since she learned to read and fell in love with books. When she's not at her computer creating spicy new romances, Dakota is traveling to exotic locales or spending time with her husband and their bloodhounds. DAKOTA also writes romance under the pen names: Savannah Young, Sierra Avalon and Ren Monterrey.
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Blitz:Conceiving Evil by Jenna Fox

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BOOK INFORMATION

TITLE – Conceiving Evil AUTHOR – Jenna Fox GENRE – Erotic/Suspense with light BDSM and horror themes PUBLICATION DATE – October 16th 2014 LENGTH (Pages/# Words) – 35 pages/10,577 words PUBLISHER – Dark Hollows Press COVER ARTIST – 3 Rusted Spoons

BOOK SYNOPSIS

A dark, chilling romance. Fall in love with the ultimate bad guy.
Like everyone else after the economic crash, Abby Torrance was struggling financially. But then Dorian Lincoln, a political and business icon, sweeps her off her feet and into a life of promise. He’s a man who has enough power to change the world for the better, a man who can give hope to the masses, a man who can give Abby a baby.
But the road to Hell is paved with good intentions and Abby is having strange dreams that seem both a warning and a prophesy. How can she give the evil undertones of her dreams any notice when she’s busy focusing on conceiving?
Young woman with beautiful long brown hair posing at studio, pro

BUY & TBR LINKS

EXCERPT

Dammit to hell. I can’t even enjoy a movie.
The nighttime air bit at my skin as thoughts of him chomped at my brain. He’d polluted me like a poison that spread throughout my mind and body, seizing every thought, leaving no rest. I loved horror movies and yet I couldn’t recall a single scene. Jimmie kept glancing at me, concern etching his face all the way through the ninety-minute show.
Soon Jimmie and I walked out of the theater, my hand resting in the crook of his elbow. Bitterness raged inside, heating my face against the breeze when I saw the limo roll toward us. He found me like he always said he would, but three fucking hours late.
I knew I wasn’t Dorian’s top priority, and I’d made some progress at keeping my jealousy under control, but no woman wanted to be shoved to the side every time it was convenient for a man. I tightened my grip on Jimmie’s sleeve and pulled him along just as the driver stepped into our path. I gave the chauffeur a shotgun-glare as he motioned me to the car. “Miss Torrance, Mr. Lincoln is waiting.”
My heart skipped ten beats, I couldn’t tear my eyes away when the dark window lowered and Dorian tousled his ebony hair with his fingers. He wasn’t in his usual attire, a business suit. Tonight he presented himself in casual wear. His sharp, handsome features were expressionless.
I closed my eyes, digging deep for the strength to tell him to get lost for standing me up, but I knew the words would never make it past my lips. I was a fool to entertain the thought. One look from those black eyes sifted me like wheat. Dorian practically owned me. That man was my tempter and my savior wrapped into one.
I met him at the lowest point of my life, after my mother died of cancer. The three jobs I was working to keep my head above water and pay off her medical bills were about to do me in physically. While I was waiting tables at the country club, Dorian swooped in from out of nowhere and rescued me like an injured bird. His amazing sixth sense alerted him that life was too much for me, and he offered me a strong shoulder to cry on. The floodgates opened and I unloaded my personal problems. Dorian Lincoln promised those problems would disappear with a simple acceptance of his proposition: give him power over my body, something Bianca wouldn’t allow.
Lifting my palm to Jimmie’s cheek, I smiled. “Thanks for the movie. I’ll call you next week.”
“He’s a prick. You deserve better, Abby!” Jimmie yelled, as I eased myself inside the limo.
Dorian opened a small refrigerator under the seat, his hands cupping the base of a champagne glass. “You’ve wasted no time finding another way of entertaining yourself this evening.”
“You wasted no time in standing me up,” I scoffed.
When I left his office that afternoon, Dorian said he wanted me for some ‘quality time.’ Eight-thirty rolled around before I realized he was a no-show. The food got cold and eventually the long stemmed candles I lit for dinner burned out, along with my patience.
“Meetings...clients,” he said.
Top secret meetings and clients were always the excuse. The coldness in his voice was a sword to my heart, a reminder of my temporary ranking in his life. I held on tight to his promise of our relationship becoming more when the time was right.
His stony expression broke into a devious grin. “You look beautiful in that dress and your enthusiasm is charming. But watching you masturbate will reimburse me, Miss Torrance.”
My stomach dropped and quivered as I pressed my thighs together. He was going to punish me.
I tugged at the straps of the red shoes he’d bought me, eyeing him as he sipped from the flute and moved his gaze toward the window. Overtaken by the need to be the object of his fascination, I almost begged him to turn those onyx eyes back on me. His attention was the only thing that kept me from going under.
“Dorian, please I-”
My words were cut off with the sharp turn of his head. Relief came in a warm caress, but suspicion moved in with a lift of his brow. The small amount of light coming through the tinted windows deepened the masculine angles of his face, lending them a sternness that echoed in his voice.
“No other men. I thought I was quite clear about that when we discussed the terms of our agreement, three months ago.”
“Jimmie is just a friend.”
“Jimmie is a man. A distraction.”
“A distraction from being pissed. I don’t like being stood up.”
I sounded so offended, but I had no right. Closing my eyes I regrouped, reminding myself that I freely agreed to make myself available to him. Dorian kept up his end of the arrangement. He took care of me, changed my life for the better. My phone stopped ringing from creditors, he gave me a great job at his company, and I had food on the table in a fabulous apartment. He seemed to know my every need before I voiced them. I could push aside my hostility and take his punishment and occasional negligence.
“You are mine, all mine.” he announced.
His words, saturated with power and ownership, sustained my hungry heart. I could hold out as long as it took, accepting the way things had to be until Bianca was more emotionally stable, and Dorian could ask her for a divorce. I had waited longer on losers, lazy assholes who wouldn’t work in a pie factory. This time I had struck gold.
Reaching over, I grabbed the seat when Dorian impatiently knocked on the divider and the limo picked up speed.
Conceiving Evil - Author Photo
AUTHOR BIO
Jenna Fox is a civilized hillbilly, mother, wife and multi published author of erotic romance residing in Eastern Tennessee. She enjoys reading and jotting down poetry in her spare time. Besides juggling a busy family life, Fox reviews and critiques for other authors and crafts her own dark erotic tales. Stories always feature a mysterious alpha male with unexpected twists to shock the reader. She believes in HFN and HEA endings, although not always in a romantic or conventional way.
Her work is born from real life experiences, an overactive imagination and a consuming caffeine addiction. Sometimes she finds herself writing sex scenes on fast food napkins and store receipts while waiting in traffic, but she’s always guilty of keeping her mind in the gutter. Fox is a listener of hard rock music and a watcher of classic slasher films. In short, she’s a writer, a storyteller, able to make a boo-boo all better with just one kiss and a proud, world class expert at screwing up recipes and scaring away closet monsters. She believes in ghosts and God and is absolutely convinced chocolate soothes the savage beast.

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GIVEAWAY

Two free eBook copies of Sealed in Blood (erotic thriller)
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Thursday, February 12, 2015

Release Day Blitz: The Vampire of Vancouver by Liz Meldon

the vampire of vancouver release day

Book Two - High Resolution
Book Title: The Vampire of Vancouver Author: Liz Meldon Genre: Paranormal Romance Release Date: February 12, 2015 Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions
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Book Blurb
Aphrodite, goddess of love and lust, is not impressed. After giving up her penthouse suite in trendy Manhattan to go monster hunting around the world, she finds herself in a sad hotel room in Vancouver with a decidedly distracted Loki. She hadn't expected this job to be so serious, and her Norse partner isn't exactly bowing to her whims these days. What was the point in coming with him if they weren’t beneath the sheets all hours of the day? It seems like such a waste of sexual compatibility. Humph.
Meanwhile, Loki, Norse trickster, is equally unimpressed. He hadn't thought taking on a beautiful partner would make his work so difficult. Her unfocused energy grates on his nerves, and his lust for her is only surpassed by his desire for more godly power. He will complete this job, whether she likes it or not, and he’ll walk away one step closer to regaining his old abilities. Now, if only he can get his partner to focus on the task at hand, not seduction. Ridiculous woman. Aphrodite and Loki, an unlikely team if there ever was one, find themselves in the City of Vancouver hunting vampires. The job is pretty straightforward: rescue the damsel, kill the monster. Unfortunately, even the easiest of jobs hardly ever go according to plan.
excerpt
She took back everything she said about Vancouver’s beauty in the springtime. Not twenty minutes after Aphrodite stepped out of the shower, the skies opened—and stayed open. Rain and sleet threatened to ruin her gorgeous Louboutin pumps, ravenous winds destroyed her blown-out hair, and thunder made the car windows rattle. Loki seemed unperturbed by the weather; it wasn’t like the rain could make his hair look any less slicked back. She shot him a somewhat bitter look, but he missed it, his eyes on the road.
Still, he looked quite fetching, and she knew it was on purpose. He’d sent for his jacket to be ironed againafter their tryst, and even removed the two studs in his ears. He’d donned a pricey wristwatch and polished leather shoes. To bring the whole look together, he’d smoothed down his wild hair and tied it in place. If she didn’t know any better, the man next to her could have been royalty—or at least an investment banker, which was practically the same in some circles. Her attraction heightened seeing him so well-kept, her lust revving up again with a mind of its own. It took every ounce of self-restraint not to ruin either of their outfits by climbing onto him just before they left.
And oh, how she’d desperately wanted to.
Aphrodite huffed miserably, brushing the rainwater off her coat and onto the seat of their rental car. It was absurd that neither of them had an umbrella, and even more ludicrous that the front desk staff didn’t have one to lend on hand. But at least her dress wasn’t sullied. She pulled down the visor and pushed the mirror cover aside. Loki groaned when she turned on the little light above the dashboard, and she batted his hand away when he tried to turn it off.
“You look fine.”
She shook her head, running her pinky under her eyelids to fix the slightly smudged eyeliner. “You were the one who made such a fuss about how I look tonight. You can’t be annoyed with me for doing the same thing.”
“I can’t see the road with the light on the window—”
“Well, it’s not like we’d actually die in a car crash, would we?” She ducked down to find the lipstick in her clutch. After running it along her lips twice, she puckered them, fixed them with a finger, and then switched the light off.
Loki reached for the radio.
She’d chosen black attire to match Loki, the only hint of colour coming from the red on her lips and the bottoms of her shoes. Her dress was fitted yet conservative: a high neckline, cut-off at mid-thigh, and sleeves to her elbows. Overall, Aphrodite thought she looked tantalizing. Loki had merely given her a nod of approval.
She’d never admit how much it bothered her that he didn’t openly drool over her, especially when she’d put effort into her look.
The rental car eventually slowed at a cul-de-sac, and Aphrodite did a quick sweep of the area—well, what she could see through the curtain of rain, anyway. It was an ostentatious neighbourhood in West Vancouver, one with perfectly trimmed hedges and an obscene amount of lawn between each house. The streetlights gave off a warm yellow glow, similar to the bedside lamps in their hotel room, and Aphrodite assumed this would be a comfortable area to raise a family in.
However, she guessed she’d smell the marital discord as soon as she stepped out of the car; that was always the way in these sorts of places. Hera would be more adept at finding a solution, surely, while Aphrodite was more inclined to revel in the stink of lust and jealousy.
“Now, when we’re in there, don’t be afraid to use those legs,” Loki instructed, placing a hand on her damp knee. “They look very nice in that dress.”
Ah, so he was capable of a compliment. She licked her lips and re-crossed her legs, shifting them out of his reach.
“Would you give that same instruction if your partner was a man?” She raised an eyebrow at him defiantly.
He chuckled. “If he had legs like yours, of course.”
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Meet the Author
Liz is a Canadian author who grew up in the Middle East. She has a degree in Bioarchaeology from Western University, and when she isn't writing about her own snarky characters, she is ghostwriting romance novellas, working on her fanfiction, loitering on social media, or selling tickets at a theatre.
As a freelance ghostwriter, she has written eleven romance novellas, eight of which have been published and are doing well. She loves writing realistic characters in fantastical settings.
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