woensdag 13 december 2017

Book Excerpt Just Like The Brontë Sisters


Book Excerpt



Mitch used tweezers to not-so-gently remove all the glass from Jo Beth’s skin. They sat in the bathroom, her atop the toilet with its lid down, and Mitch on the floor, his back leaning against the edge of the tub as he picked out the glass piece by piece, shard by shard, dropping each one into the wastebasket.

Occasionally he’d look up and his wide, dark eyes pooled with distress.

Jo Beth couldn’t keep silent. “Mitch, I swear that she started it. Magda hit me with that spoon and then she cut herself to make it seem like it was my fault.”

Mitch’s chest heaved up and down. He kept his eyes on her knees. “Jo Beth, you have to stop.”

“But I’m telling the truth.”

“Jo Beth!” His inhale was sharp, like he’d just been hit. “Once the baby is born, we’ll leave. I don’t care where we go, but we’ll figure something out. Until then, you have to keep it together.”

“She’s still in love with you, Mitch.” Jo Beth could say this as loud as she wanted because Magda was out, having taken herself to the emergency room after Mitch said that her cut probably needed stitches.

Mitch vehemently shook his head. “No. It’s not like that. She dumped me.”

“Wait, what?” Jo Beth felt her brain synapses coil tightly in confusion. “I thought you said that your breakup was mutual.”

He dug the tweezers into the base of her ankle, right where some glass was lodged. Suddenly Jo Beth felt like he was playing that board game, Operation, and she was as real to him as the clownish cartoon character who needs gas bubbles removed from his stomach.

 “No,” Mitch replied. “She decided it was time, after I lost my ability to see through the blood-red cloud that surrounds her. That’s what happened.”

“Ouch!” Jo Beth yanked her foot away. His excavation attempts were just too vigorous. “What are you talking about? What blood-red cloud?”

Mitch grabbed her foot back and held it tight as he mined for more glass. “The one that surrounds Magda?” His tone was condescending and impatient, almost as bad as his nursing skills. “Don’t tell me you don’t see it.”

“Mitch…”

He wouldn’t look at her but stayed focused on his task.

“Mitch, you’re honestly telling me that a blood-red cloud hovers around Magda?”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “I realize that not everyone can see it, but I can. I’ve always been able to see things that other people can’t. My ability is more a curse than a blessing.”

The pressure behind Jo Beth’s eyes was uncomfortable, just like the pricking of Mitch’s tweezers. Could he possibly be for real? “Why haven’t you ever mentioned this before?”

“Magda wanted it to be our secret,” he said simply. “But things changed, she broke up with me, and it was fine. There was no tidal wave, no crisis, she didn’t disappear, and we stayed friends.” Mitch finally dislodged the last pieces of glass and after depositing them in the trash can, he dropped the tweezers like he was dropping a microphone. “And I love you, Jo. But you have to stop acting so crazy.”

She had to stop acting so crazy? Jo Beth just nodded and gripped the edges of the toilet beneath her. How could one little statement from this man change everything?

she kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for taking such good care of me.”

Jo Beth went to bed and lay there until she heard Magda come in, and then there was the sound of their voices speaking in low, romantic tones. Were they kissing? Had they been intimate with each other this entire time? She was surprised to realize that she didn’t even care. But when Jo Beth was sure they were too consumed with each other’s company to worry about her, she got out her cell phone, hid under the covers so her voice would be muffled, and called Skylar. It was the middle of the night where she was, so Jo Beth thought for sure she’d answer, but it went straight to voicemail.

“Sky,” Jo Beth whispered. “You have to believe me because Mom doesn’t. Magda and Mitch have charmed her into believing that they’re innocent. But I know the truth. Magda is an evil bitch and Mitch is crazy.” She took a deep breath, trying not to feel claustrophobic underneath the covers. “I’m actually sort of relieved,” she continued. “Maybe Mitch actually does love me. Maybe’s it’s not his fault that he’s insane. I don’t know how long he’s been like this, maybe his whole life, but it explains everything. It explains why I can’t trust him.” She tried to keep her tears out of her voice. She had to stay strong. “Skylar, where are you? Why didn’t you come? I have to get myself and my baby away from Mitch. Once she’s born I’m going to leave and I’ll need your help. Promise that you’ll help me.” She took a deep sniff. “We need to talk in person. I don’t know how that will happen, but just know that I love you. You’re my favorite and I love you best of all.”

She pressed end, emerged from the covers, and sat up. Then she reached under the bed and removed the knife she’d kept beneath the mattress for over two weeks. Jo Beth gripped it in her sweaty hand, wondering if she was capable of murder, or if her subconscious just liked to pretend. Hell. She was pretty sure she was capable. The bigger question was whether she was up for the effort that murder required. Exhaustion slowly dripped through her, turning her muscles and mind to slush. She must have fallen asleep with the knife still in her grip, because after what seemed like hours, she woke to Mitch’s face looming above hers.

“Why are you holding a knife?” His voice was sharp, like the blade she clutched.

“Huh?”

He took the knife from her and her breath caught. If he wanted to kill her, right here, right now, there was no stopping him. “Are you afraid of me, Jo Beth?”

She pushed him away and struggled into a sitting position. “No, Mitch. I’m not afraid of you. But I think we should break up.”

“What?”

“As soon as I have the baby I’m going home with my mom.”

Mitch closed his eyes and fell back against the bed. “You can’t do that,” he whispered.

She took the knife from his hand and he let it go without protest. “Yeah, I can.”

His eyes rolled toward the ceiling. “So much water,” he said, holding out his palms as if to catch a nonexistent flood. “Like the roof is crying.”

“Mitch…” She placed her hand on his shoulder. He sat up abruptly and swiped back the knife. “Why can’t we just be okay? Is that too much to ask?”

Suddenly Jo Beth was afraid, but not of Mitch. There was a flood, but it wasn’t coming from the roof. It came from between her legs. “Mitch!” she cried. “Stop being delusional. My water just broke.”


About the Book


Title: Just Like The Bronte Sisters

Author: Laurel Osterkamp

Genre: Women’s Fiction

Sisters Skylar and Jo Beth adore skiing and they virtually share the same soul. After an accident, Jo Beth flees to Brazil, leaving Skylar behind in Colorado to obsessively read the Brontë sisters. While abroad, Jo Beth meets Mitch and her life takes some unexpected turns, until tragedy leads free-spirited Mitch right into Skylar’s empty arms. With their Heathcliff/Catherine romance in full swing, Skylar wants to trust Mitch, but did he harm her sister? Loving Mitch could make Skylar lose everything. Just Like the Brontë Sisters is an unconventional romantic page-turner inspired by Daphne du Maurier’s My Cousin Rachel, full of magical realism, literary references, a ghost, and some healthy doses of suspense.





Author Bio


Laurel Osterkamp is a Kindle Scout/award-winning author of women’s fiction and suspense. Her “day job” is as at Columbia Heights High School, where she teaches creative writing, college writing, and AP Lit. She resides in Minneapolis with her husband, two chatty children, an overweight cat, a gecko, and a hissing cockroach (don’t ask). Her other loves include chocolate, jogging, and boots.



Links


Amazon

Facebook

Website

dinsdag 12 december 2017

Promo Post No Quarter: Wenches


About the Book

Title: No Quarter: Wenches – The Complete Series
Author: MJL Evans and GM O’Connor
Genre: Historical Romance
Behind every successful pirate is a cunning wench! In 1689, Atia Crisp finds herself imprisoned in the wickedest city on earth, Port Royal, Jamaica, while the refugees from Strangewayes’s plantation in the Blue Mountains are on the run and seeking a new home, deep in the Caribbean. Captain Jean-Paul la Roche must get them to safety and find a way to liberate the woman he loves while waging a war against the English with the pirate Laurens de Graaf.
While besieged people suffer and starve, a group of women form a secret and illegal society deep from within the bowels of the city called: WENCH. A network that deals with smugglers, merchants, cutthroats and thieves. Dragged into the struggle for supremacy of the Caribbean, the women are divided and find themselves engulfed in bloodshed. The pirates of Port Royal and former enemies may be their only hope of escape.

Contains Volume 1-5


Author Bios

MJL EVANS wanted to be a writer since she was ten years old and in 2014 she finally got her act together and pursued her dream. Author of No Quarter: Dominium and No Quarter: Wenches, she is a huge fan of Monty Python, Red Dwarf, and other BBC shows, her time is devoted to acrylic, oil and watercolor painting, catering to her two senior cats and of course, writing.
You can connect with MJL Evans on Twitter at @artistmjlevans or noquarterseries@gmail.com

GM O’CONNOR is a huge movie fan, writer and visual artist. A lover of sci-fi and history, half his brain lives in the 17th century while the other half sails perpetually through space. Author of No Quarter: Dominium and No Quarter: Wenches, he hopes to one day bring the No Quarter Series to film and/or graphic novel format.
You can connect with GM O’Connor on Twitter at @gm_oconnor or noquarterseries@gmail.com


Links

http://www.thenoquarterseries.com/
https://www.facebook.com/noquarterseries/
https://twitter.com/noquarterseries

Buy on Amazon.

woensdag 6 december 2017

Promo Post The One Apart


About the Book

Title: The One Apart
Author: Justine Avery
Genre: Paranormal
Only one obstacle stands in his way of enjoying a normal life. He remembers—every life he’s lived before.
Tres is about to be born… with the biggest burden any has ever had to bear. He is beginning again—as an ageless adult trapped in an infant body.
He and his teenage mother face life filled with extraordinary challenges as they strive to protect, nurture, and hide how truly different he is. But Tres alone must solve the greatest mystery of all: who is he? The answer is linked to the one question he’s too afraid to ask: why am I?
In his quest, Tres discovers that all is considerably more interconnected and dynamic than he could ever imagine—and fraught with far more danger. He cannot hide from the unseen threat stalking him since his birth.
Life as he knows it—as all know it—is in peril. And Tres is the only one aware.


Author Bio

Justine Avery is an award-winning author of stories large and small for all. Born in the American Midwest and raised all over the world, she is inherently an explorer, duly fascinated by everything around her and excitedly noting the stories that abound all around. As an avid reader of all genres, she weaves her own stories among them all. She has a predilection for writing speculative fiction and story twists and surprises she can’t even predict herself.
Avery has either lived in or explored all 50 states of the union, over 36 countries, and all but one continent; she lost count after moving 30-some times before the age of 20. She’s intentionally jumped out of airplanes and off the highest bungee jump in New Zealand, scuba dived unintentionally with sharks, designed websites, intranets, and technical manuals, bartered with indigenous Panamanians, welded automobile frames, observed at the Bujinkan Hombu Dojo in Noba, Japan, and masterminded prosperous internet businesses—to name a few adventures. She earned a Bachelor of Arts degree that life has never required, and at age 28, she sold everything she owned and quit corporate life—and her final “job”—to freelance and travel the world as she always dreamed of. And she’s never looked back.
Aside from her native English, Avery speaks a bit of Japanese and a bit more Spanish, her accent is an ever-evolving mixture of Midwestern American with notes of the Deep South and indiscriminate British vocabulary and rhythm, and she says “eh”—like the Kiwis, not the Canadians. She currently lives near Los Angeles with her husband, British film director Devon Avery, and their three adopted children: Becks, Sam, and Lia. She writes from wherever her curiosity takes her.
Avery loves to connect with fellow readers and creatives, explorers and imaginers, and cordially invites you to say “hello”—or konnichiwa.
www.JustineAvery.com
Twitter: @Justine_Avery
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/JustineAvery
Book buy link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B076B7RDWY

Book Excerpt Framed



Book Excerpt


Okanagan Bliss



A police cruiser sat outside the house as I pulled into the garage. All kinds of thoughts entered my mind, none of them pleasant. Had my investigation ruffled some feathers? I quickly made my way inside, not bothering to remove my helmet. I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard laughter coming from the kitchen. From the doorway, I spotted Mom and Hannah sitting at the table, sipping tall pink concoctions. On the counter, beyond them, stood the blender, a bottle of Bacardi, a cutting board and the remnants of chopped fruit.

I stepped into the room.

“Hi, honey,” Mom said. “Look who stopped by to see you.”

Hannah waved, and though she was still in her uniform, the open collar without tie and hat made her seem much more casual.

“Hi, Hannah,” I said, removing my helmet and shaking out my hair. “I hope you haven’t been waiting too long.”

“My shift ended at eight and I came right over. I wish I’d gotten here sooner,” Hannah laughed. “Your mom is a hoot.”

Another tall glass magically appeared on the table before I had managed to sit down. The nectar of the gods slid across my tongue. The look on my face caused giggles from my tablemates.

“Good isn’t it?” Hannah’s question was an understatement.

“What is this?” I asked after a larger sample.

Mom raised her glass. “I call my little concoction ‘Okanagan Bliss’. I throw peaches, plums, pears, ice and rum into the blender and this marvelous mixture is the result.”

“To bliss,” Hannah said, then we clinked our glasses together.

“I can use some bliss right now,” I said, after swallowing another mouthful. Then while we polished off our Okanagan Bliss and another blender full after that, I told them about my frustrating afternoon. My serial killer theory had turned out to be a lot less fruitful than our drinks.

“Don’t be so certain,” Hannah said. From next to her chair, she retrieved a leather satchel and pulled out a one-inch-thick ream of paper. “I ran a nation-wide missing persons search this afternoon.”

“There are that many missing people in Canada?” Mom asked, her voice filled with alarm.

“Oh, heavens no,” Hannah responded.

Mom patted her chest and breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness, you had me worried.”

Having been in law enforcement for all those years I knew what was coming. I reached over and took Mom’s hand.

“This is just the tip of the iceberg,” Hannah informed her. “For our purposes, I didn’t include missing children, older folks or men.”

“Oh my,” Mom said. “I had no idea.”

“Most people don’t,” Hannah told her, then turned to me and slid the stack my way. “These are the women between eighteen and forty who are missing and/or presumed dead.”

“How many are there?” I asked, giving Mom’s hand a final squeeze before thumbing through the missing women.

“Over the past ten years, 182 women have gone missing and are, as of yet, unaccounted for.” Hannah informed us.

“That’s awful.” A look of horror swept across Mom’s face. “Those poor women.”

“I assure you that some of these women are alive and well,” I told Mom, hoping to make her feel better.

“Some of them are hiding,” Hannah piped in.

“Hiding?” Mom asked.

“Escaping abusive relationships,” I told her. “A few are hiding from the law, to avoid prosecution.”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that,” Mom said.

“But most are likely dead,” Hannah said.

“Hannah!” I said, indicating with my eyes to tone things down, for Mom’s sake.

“Many of them are possibly,” Hannah hesitated trying to find the right wording, “in heaven by now.”

“Really?” I laughed.

“I tried,” Hannah giggled. I laughed, she laughed and even Mom joined in. Guilt over the subject matter sobered us quickly, though.

“To the ones that got away,” Mom said, raising her glass. “Stay safe ladies, wherever you are.”

“Hear, hear,” Hannah and I added. We drained our glasses.



About the Book

Title: Framed – A Black Swann Investigation
Author: Wayne Kerr
Genre: Mystery / Thriller
Toronto’s newest homicide detective, Reggie Swann, seemed to have it all: great career, handsome husband and plans to start a family, until she was framed for murder…
A cop has very few friends in prison.  After surviving ten brutal years behind bars, Reggie’s conviction is finally overturned thanks to her tenacious mother, a new forensic test and a very clever lawyer. She quickly discovers that getting her old life back won’t be as easy as she hoped. To many, she was still as the media had dubbed her: ‘Black Swann – murderer and cop-gone-bad’. The Toronto Police Department still considers her to be a suspect, Reggie’s husband has remarried and the real killer is still on the loose.
Before Reggie can return to Toronto and solve the crime that ruined her life, she reluctantly agrees to investigate a murder in her home town of Penticton, only to discover the two cases which are separated by ten years and five provinces might somehow be connected. Will anyone believe the wild theories of the disgraced detective?
The real murderer does. He framed her once, this time Reggie Swann must die!


Author Bio

Canadian author, Wayne Kerr, was born and raised in the small town of Biggar, Saskatchewan (New York is big, but this is Biggar).  He married his high school sweetheart, Marlene, thirty-nine years ago and has lived happily ever since.  They resided in the United States for the past twenty years, but recently returned to Canada and now call the beautiful Okanagan region of British Columbia home.  The writer honed his story-telling skills while keeping his five younger siblings and later his daughter entertained during long cold winters.  When not reading or writing thrillers, Wayne is probably hiking, biking or playing tennis.
For more information on the author and his books please visit: waynekerrnovels.com or follow him on twitter: @waynekerrnovels



Links

website: waynekerrnovels.com
twitter: @waynkerrnovels
Amazon :https://goo.gl/qQonNw



maandag 4 december 2017

Book Excerpt Kindred Spirits


Book Excerpt



Pip picked up her pace as she was ten minutes behind schedule and Malcom was nervously looking around as though he thought she might be a no-show. As she neared him, a rather rough looking man started to jog along next to her. Pip stopped to let him pass, but he halted with her.

“Pardon me,” Pip inquired, “are you following me?”

The man answered, “’Course I am. Why wouldn’t I be following you? You’re gorgeous, love.”

She appreciated the flattery even if it came from an apparent lunatic. At five feet ten with shiny, thick, dark hair, Pip knew she made a good first impression. Her clothing was always top of the line, if a bit conservative, and she made sure to stay out of the sun so as not to wrinkle prematurely.  She hoped her date found her as attractive as the odd fellow next to her.

As she shared pleasantries with the stranger, Pip pondered a fortuitous outcome to her blind date. She didn’t fully realize she’d reached Malcom until he offered his hand and inquired, “Philippa Fielding?”

Pip looked up and nearly fell into the most piercing blue eyes she’d ever seen. She answered, “Yes. You must be Malcom.”

Nodding his head in response, he asked, “Who were you chatting with just now?”

“I don’t know, exactly.” She continued, “Just some man who started to walk with me.”

Malcom looked around and inquired, “What man?”

Pip looked over her blind date’s shoulder and spotted the chap who’d been shadowing her. She pointed at him and replied, “That one over there, the one with dirty blond hair and a goatee.” She further clarified, “His two front teeth are chipped.”

Malcom turned and looked, but saw no one. At his confusion, Pip added, “He’s in his forties, wearing worn blue jeans and a grungy t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up.” She gestured further to clarify who she was talking about. “The one who looks like he’s just been in a pub brawl.”

He still had no idea who she was talking about, so he answered, “I don’t see him.”

Pip made eye contact and called out, “Excuse me sir, would you come over here, please?”

The bedraggled looking stranger gestured to himself, as if to ask, “Me?” Pip nodded and he readily approached. “Hello,” she greeted, “I’m sorry I didn’t get your name just now. I’m Philippa.

His hand shot out and he smiled, showing off two broken front teeth, “Bertram, love. I’m proper chuffed to meet you.”

Pip dropped her hand, gasped, and let out an uncharacteristic expletive. “You’re Bertram? Bloody hell.”

Malcom watched his cousin’s friend warily. Obviously, he didn’t see anyone who looked like he’d recently taken a couple knocks to the face, as Pip was the only person in the vicinity who could see ghosts.

At that instant Philippa knew her date was over. She decided to just come clean with Malcom, explain her odd life, and walk away. If she was lucky, she could still join her friends at the cinema to watch the romantic comedy they were all keen to see.

Malcom realized Philippa might not be as odd as he first thought and said, “The way I see it, you’re either completely bonkers or you’re speaking to a dead person. Which is it?”

Pip found it refreshing that Sephra’s cousin didn’t immediately assume she was destined for Bedlam. She replied, “The latter, I’m afraid.” She further clarified, “It’s the result of a nasty fever I had as a child.”


About the Book


Title: Kindred Spirits

Author: Whitney Dineen

Genre: Chicklit / Romance

Dashing and successful, Richard Bingham has been voted one of the top ten bachelors in New York City. After unwittingly offending a reporter from Manhattan Life magazine, he finds himself on the receiving end of an article that makes his quest of finding the perfect mate nearly impossible.

After one dating disaster too many, Richard decides it’s time to seek professional help, so he signs up for the matchmaking services of the East Side Yenta.

Philippa Fielding is single and searching for love in London, but her accidental profession of “Message Deliverer from the Great Beyond” puts most men right off.

Will Pip’s new “Spirit Helper,” Bertram, be able to set her on the course for true love with a message for Richard?

Matchmaking, misunderstandings, and mayhem abound in this fast-paced romantic comedy about love, life, and the afterlife!





Author Bio


Whitney Dineen is a multi-award-winning author of romantic comedies, non-fiction humor and middle reader fiction. When she’s not spinning stories, Whitney’s raising her young daughters, wrangling chicken, or eating french fries, not necessarily in that order.



Links


Website

Facebook

Twitter

Amazon

Goodreads

zondag 3 december 2017

Promo Post His Highness, The Philogynist


About the Book

Title: His Highness, the Philogynist
Author: Gianni Shamari
Genre: Urban Erotica
Billionaire playboy Maré is the creator of GoodFellas magazine and owner of Genisys, the hottest gentlemen’s club in New York City. Nicknamed Nature Boy, his extravagant lifestyle is a moving motion picture when it comes to VIP treatment, exclusive parties, exotic trips around the world, fast cars and trysts. Women love him and he lives for giving women maximum pleasure. Maré truly is the King of New York!
This novella takes you into the world of the King of New York where you feel like you’re in a hip-hop erotic movie and celebrating a lifestyle that very few can brag about. These erotic tales are perfect for your erotic fantasies and sexual desires.


Author Bio

Gianni Shamari was born and raised in New York City. Gianni graduated from City College of New York in 2009, received a Bachelors of Arts degree in English and Science with a minor in Creative Writing. Gianni always had a passion for writing since Elementary School. He enjoys expressing freely on paper and sharing his stories with the world. Writing is just a big part of Gianni’s life. He made his publishing debut with the epic tale, “Another Best Erotic Night Of My Life” in the 2016 The Very Best of Bare Back Magazine anthology. Gianni has been writing for the popular magazine for four years.
His first novel, “Monica Hershel: Predator on Top” was released on February 13, 2017. Gianni’s second novella, “His Highness, the Philogynist”, is schedule for release on November 27, 2017.



Links

Amazon Author Page
Book Trailer

Purchase Links:
Amazon US
Amazon UK
Amazon CA

vrijdag 1 december 2017

Release Blitz Merry Inkmas

About the Book

Title: Merry Inkmas
Author: Talia Hibbert
Genre: Contemporary Romance (Interracial)
Enjoy another Dirty British Romance by Talia Hibbert, author of Bad for the Boss. Christmas just got sexy…
“There’s a beast inside of me. I keep it caged. You drive it wild.”
Cash Evans has come a long way since his troubled childhood, but all the wealth he’s earned as a tattoo artist can’t fix the hole in his heart. He knows that the sweet barista who haunts his dreams is off-limits… But life doesn’t always go to plan.
There isn’t a man on earth who could ruin me.”
Bailey Cooper is determined to learn from her mother’s mistakes. She’s seen how cruel love can be, and she’s not about to sacrifice her self-respect for a relationship. But when a bad boy with a heart of gold comes to her rescue, she finds herself wondering if this beast might just be her Prince Charming.
Will these two lost souls find a happy ending under the tree this Christmas?
Or is their love doomed to wither with the mistletoe?
Merry Inkmas is a red-hot Christmas romance starring a brooding, bad boy hero and a Black, BBW heroine with a wall around her heart.

Author Bio

Talia Hibbert is a writer and educator from England, U.K., by way of both the West Indies and West Africa. She wrote her first romance aged 12, and was promptly scolded by her teacher because her story of love in the jungle wasn’t ‘proper’.
Since then, Talia’s romances have improved in quality and hugely increased in heat. She now writes erotic, interracial romances about dirty Brits. They still aren’t proper, but they are a lot of fun.
In her free time, she eats too much ice cream and watches K Drama on Netflix. She also spends a serious amount of time on social media, so make sure you stay connected.
Keep up with the world of Dirty British Romance on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram!
And, as Talia would say… that’s all, folks. Love and biscuits.

Links