BookBlitz: Texas Billionaire Box Set: Bought, Branded & Bound by Lynn Richards

Bought, Branded & Bound Lynn Richards



Bought, Branded and Bound

Texas Billionaire Box Set

By: Lynn Richards


Macy Trent was a chubby girl but that didn’t mean she obeyed anybody’s rules but her own. That is, until her drop-dead gorgeous boss blackmailed her into submitting to his will. She agrees to spend the weekend with Logan and obey his every command.

Twenty four hours later…Oh my God what have I done?

That’s Macy first thought upon waking and finding herself in Logan Quinn’s bed. As memories of the night before – and her wanton behavior – come flooding back, Macy realizes last night wasn’t her biggest regret, it was falling in love with her drop dead gorgeous boss.

Logan’s curvy assistant is sarcastic, willful, and deliberately disobedient and he’s had enough of her attitude. He knows the only way to get her out of his system is to make her submit. He also knows being a Dom is all about maintaining control. So why does his curvy secretary make him want to break his every rule?

Come join Logan and Macy on their incredibly erotic journey and find out what happens when a good little submissive makes her dominant lose control…

WARNING: For mature audiences only – contains elements of discipline, submission, dominance, hot sex and . . . romance


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“Again, Macy, why are you being punished?”

Macy was sitting on the end of the bed like a good submissive when Logan entered the bedroom almost an hour later. Luckily he hadn’t finished sooner. She’d taken a quick shower before donning one of his dress shirts and even answered a text from her sister.

“Because I put two sugars in your coffee instead of three.”

“Did you do that deliberately, Miss Trent? You have made coffee for me almost every day since you’ve been in my employ. And you have put one cube of sugar in my coffee each time. Why forget today?”

He stood there, watching her, his eyes flashing with fire. She didn’t know if it was anger or desire. She hoped it was desire.

“Do you know why I think you forgot, Miss Trent?”

She shook her head, unable to speak.

“I think you want to be punished. You want to feel the heat of my hand on your backside. You want to see how much you can tolerate before using your safe word, don’t you, Macy?”

He stepped back and pulled the t-shirt over his head. Next he hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his pajamas and let them slide to the floor. He wore no socks or shoes. Or underwear.

He walked over to the sitting area and placed one of the high-backed chairs in front of the mirrored closets. Taking a seat he motioned her over. “Come, stand in front of me the way you did last night.”

Macy complied, stepping in front of the chair with her back to him. She could feel her blood thrumming through her body. Even though she couldn’t comprehend the satisfaction to be had from spanking—yet—she was excited. Aroused at the thought of having Logan’s hands on her again.

Would she ever get enough of this man?

He reached out, his hands going under the tail of her shirt to trace the shape of her ass. His hands were warm, his touch firm as he stroked her soft flesh, making her tremble.

“Do you like that, Macy?”

Her breathing hitched. His touch was like a narcotic. One simple stroke and she’d do anything to have more. “Yes.”

“Unbutton my shirt.”

As soon as she’d undone the last button, he was tugging her down across his lap, her torso resting on the large curved arm of the chair. The fingers of one hand threaded through her hair, pulling the errant strands away from her face. Suddenly, she could see them in the mirror. He was watching her. Gauging her reaction.

“I want you to watch me spank you, Miss Trent,” he murmured. This was it. The thought both frightened and aroused her.

Macy watched his face, the brooding, hungry look—like a starving man offered a feast, yet afraid it was going to be snatched away before he got a taste. Fascinated by his expression as he stared raptly at her plump cheeks, she missed the rise of his hand.



About Lynn Richards

Lynn Richards is actually the pseudonym chosen by two best friends who started writing together back when they were both young and idealistic. Though no longer exactly young, they are still best friends and still pretty idealistic. They enjoy reading (and writing) romances ranging from sweet and pure, to spicy hot and erotic. Nothing pleases them more than hearing from their readers. Please E-mail them at and tell them what kind of reads you like and what you’d like to see from Lynn Richards in the future. And thanks for taking time to read Lynn Richards’ romances!


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Release Day BookBlitz: When Stars Die by Amber Skye Forbes





Title:  When Stars Die

Author:  Amber Skye Forbes

Published:  October 22nd, 2013 by AEC Stellar Publishing

Word Count:  83,000

Genre:  YA Paranormal Romance

Content Warning: Contains dark and minor sexual content

Recommended Age:  12 – 18+


Amelia Gareth’s brother is a witch and the only way to save her family from the taint in his blood is to become a professed nun at Cathedral Reims in the snowy city of Malva. However, in order to become professed, she must endure trials that all nuns must face.

Surviving these trials is not easy, especially for Amelia, who is being stalked by shadowy beings only she can see. They’re searching for people they can physically touch, because only those they can touch can see them. Amelia soon learns why she is being stalked when she accidentally harms her best friend with fire during the third trial. Fire is a witch’s signature. The shadows are after witches.

Now Amelia must decide what to do: should she continue on her path to profession knowing there is no redemption, or should she give up on her dream and turn away from Cathedral Reims in order to stop the shadows who plan to destroy everything she loves?

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Excerpt from

When Stars Die by Amber Skye Forbes

“Yet, even when stars die, they leave a lasting impact through their light, their diamond brilliance as they scatter their material to form new stars. When people die, they leave the same impact with the footprints they leave on people’s hearts. Even the ones who feel insignificant go out, leaving behind dust that can nourish the world anew.”





About the Amber

Amber Skye Forbes is a dancing writer who prefers pointe shoes over street shoes, leotards over skirts, and ballet buns over Amber-Skye-Forbeshairstyles. She loves striped tights and bows and will edit your face with a Sharpie if she doesn’t like your attitude. She lives in Augusta, Georgia where she writes dark fiction that will one day put her in a psychiatric ward…again. But she doesn’t care because her cat is a super hero who will break her out.


Amazon Author Page | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads | Website | Blog



Amber is offering ONE e-ARC copy of When Stars Die! (open internationally)

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BookBlitz Tour: Given To You by Carlie Sexton


 Title: Given to You (The Killer Next Door #3)

Author:  Carlie Sexton

Genre: New Adult / Erotic Romance Thriller

Publication Date:  September 24, 2013

Cover Designed By:  Hot Damn Designs

Event organized by: Literati Author Services, Inc.



To give is a virtue. But to give your very self, the ultimate bequest. Offered in love, it can be wondrous. Offered in desperation, it can be deadly.

In Book Two of this three-part epic, young and tempting Kate Simmons at last seemed to have reached a safe haven of happiness when she moved in with Neil, ambitious and persevering, both in his legal practice and his love life. Taking great care to protect his trophy and the surprise he had in mind for Kate, Neil hired security to accompany his soon-to-be fiancée on a scavenger hunt of a lifetime. As Book Three continues their saga, it is life itself that is in the balance when Kate becomes the hunted as the jilted Roger snatches his prey.

The obsessed minds of Neil and Roger now take aim squarely at each other — with a bare and exposed Kate directly in the crossfire. Knowing her very life will be the winner’s spoil, Kate stares agony in its ghastly face as it approaches for the death dance.

There is no time, no place, no safety in a war of fixation. A war in which the winner will be either the last one standing, or the last one to die.

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Purchase Links

Given to You (Book #3) Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

Taken by You (Book #2)  Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

Fallen for You (Book #1) Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iTunes




 Guest Post

10 things that bring a smile to your face~ puppies, kids smiling, a rainbow, my husband, hazelnut coffee, finding the perfect dress, seeing friends, warm chocolate chip cookies, Maui, WRITING!

About Carlie


Carlie Sexton has had a passion for reading her entire life. She loves it so that she dedicated her life to educating children. As a teacher, she has had the profound pleasure of teaching children to read and explore their imaginations through a good book. Just recently she decided to write a story that had been on her mind. Now she has several that she wants to turn into additional books. Writing has become a passion that she dearly loves.

Carlie lives with her handsome husband in Southern California. They enjoy the relaxed lifestyle that California provides. They have two beautiful dogs, but no children.


Connect with the Author:  Facebook | Website | Goodreads | Twitter


One complete, signed paperback set of the Killers Next Door w/swag (US Residents ONLY)

One complete set of ebooks

Three (3) $10 Amazon Gift Cards

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BookBlitz + Giveaway: Luck of The Dragon by Susannah Scott

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Luck of the Dragon


Luck of the Dragon

Susannah Scott

Genre:  Paranormal Romance

Release Date:  June 2013

Publisher: Entangled Covet



Luciana de Luca has a PhD in sass and gemology—and a problem. Her twin brother’s gambling debts have gotten out of hand, and a mob enforcer is blackmailing her to rob the latest, greatest mega-casino on the Strip. Although Lucy has worked her whole life to get away from her family’s grifter past, to save her brother, she dons three-inch heels and a sluts-r-us dress and struts into Alec’s Gerald’s casino, determined to put her long-forgotten thieving ways to the test again.

 Alec Gerald, a shape-shifting dragon, has built the Crown Jewel casino to provide sanctuary for his people amongst the flash and awe of Las Vegas. Unfortunately, the sexy little thief trying to rob his gem exhibit turns out to be his mate, and he must woo her before he loses his dragon form forever. With enemies in every corner, and the all-important mating ceremony looming, Alec and Lucy must learn to trust each other, before time runs out for Alec and the rest of the dragons.

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Luck of the Dragon–Chapter 1–sample


SUSANNAH SCOTT lives in the Missouri Ozarks and is the lone female in a very loud household of males ranging in age from 4 to 40. While she jokes that the extreme levels of testosterone inspired her to write romance, it is really the love of creating an excellent storyss, and the occasional dreams of twenty-foot dragons, that wake her and send her to the laptop before the chaos of daily life ensues. Susannah loves to hear from her readers at the following social media locations:

Susannah Scott Author website

Susannah Scott Facebook Author page

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Susananh Scott Twitter


Susannah is giving away a $25.00 Amazon Gift Card to one lucky winner! (tour wide)

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BookBlitz + Giveaway: The Bionincs Series by Alicia Michaels



The Bionics CoverTitle:  The Bionics

Series:  The Bionics Series, Book 1

Author:  Alicia Michaels

Published:  September 13th, 2013 by Crimson Tree Publishing

Word Count:  21,000

Genre:  YA Mature Dystopian Romance

Content Warning:  Coarse language and mild sexual innuendo

Recommended Age:  16+


Blurb:  All I ever wanted was to be a normal girl. I had dreams of joining the ranks of the Military Police and making my family proud. But the nuclear war that laid waste to our country destroyed any hope I had of being normal ever again. They took everything away from me, including my humanity. I am now half-human, half-machine, part of the never-ending freak show that is the Restoration Project.

They hate what they created and they fear us for being powerful.

And so they hunt us, destroying our lives so that they can bury what they built. What they don’t know is this: there is a Resistance out there and The Bionics aren’t going down without a fight.

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Titanium CoverTitle:  Titanium

Series:  The Bionics Series, Book 2

Author:  Alicia Michaels

Published:  September 13th, 2013 by Crimson Tree Publishing

Word Count:  30,000

Genre:  YA Mature Dystopian Romance

Content Warning:  Coarse language and mild sexual innuendo

Recommended Age:  16+


Blurb: We stand on the brink of a double rescue mission, a plan so foolhardy that even our bravest men are quaking inside with fear. Storm the capitol, free the prisoners, don’t get killed. It seems like a suicide mission, but not a single one of us has anything to lose.

In my past life, I was a scoundrel; a drug peddling street thug who cared nothing for anyone because I had no one to care for me. The nuclear blasts of 4006 reminded me of the value of life, and a girl with the saddest eyes I’ve ever gazed into gave me someone to care for. Now, as we embark on our most dangerous enterprise, I can only hope that we make it out alive and that those we have lost can be recovered.

Foolishness … fear … hope … These are the elements that threw our revolution into motion. As the momentum of the Resistance continues to build, we can only pray that hope continues grow larger than our fear.

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From ‘The Bionics’

“I wish that I had died that day,” I admit, unable to look away from his gaze no matter how much my mind tells me that I need to. “I wish that all the time.”

He inches closer to me on the bed. “Is it really so bad? Professor Hinkley gave you and the others a second chance at life. It’s not fair that the government has decided you and others like you pose a threat.”


I think about a news broadcast I saw a couple of weeks ago, showing a surveillance video of a man with an arm identical to mine smashing in the window of someone’s car and beating them to a bloody pulp for no reason, before pulling a limp body from the driver’s seat and driving off in the stolen vehicle. Of course the thief was found and immediately executed; no trail, no jury, no questions asked.

“Some of us are dangerous,” I answer, and of course, it’s the truth.

“Some people are dangerous,” he insists. “Bionics are still people….just modified.”

“Right now your blood pressure is 124/90, your heart rate is an elevated 70 beats per minute; not bad, but still high for a healthy male that I assume is athletic. You have a tattoo on your left arm of an eagle, and a fractured rib.”

“That is amazing.”


I shrug. “It’s my eye. It is capable of reading a person’s body heat signature as well as their vital statistics. It allows me to pull away individual layers, such as clothing, skin, and muscle to expose what’s underneath. It’s how I knew about the rib.”

I reach out with my bionic arm and poke the rib for emphasis, raising my eyebrows as he winces in pain. “Still think I’m human?”

Gage reaches for my arm—my robotic arm—and grabs it by the hand. I can’t feel it, or his hand circling the wrist above it. His eyebrows wrinkle as he turns my arm over, inside facing up. He traces the inside of my arm, his fingers sliding over the cool metal and, for the first time since I woke up with that hunk of machinery on the other end of my elbow, I am wishing that I could feel the damn thing.

“Cold,” he murmurs as he draws circles on the metal. His fingers stop on the inside of my elbow, on the line where the titanium ends and I begin. I hear his breath catch in his throat and another noisy swallow as the pad of his index finger slides over my skin. I gasp as he trails it up the inside of my arm, flesh now on flesh. The human contact that I’ve denied myself for years has left me sensitive to every touch, and I feel as if I’m being caressed for the first time.

Of course Dax has held my hand from time to time; he’s even held me against him some nights when the nightmares get particularly bad until I fall back asleep. But he’s never touched me like this, and while I’m no virgin I certainly feel like one right now. A thousand emotions are exploding in me at one time and just as many sensations are following the path his finger traces up to my shoulder, pausing at the strap of my tank top.


“Warm,” he says with a smile. “Only about….what…ten percent of you is metal. When I got past your elbow, I felt skin, blood flowing through veins, muscle, and…goose bumps?”

He says that last bit with a smile, forcing me to look away in embarrassment. He holds his arm out toward me, pulling up the sleeve of his shirt and revealing a tanned arm sprinkled with light blond hair, which is standing on end. He leaves the sleeve above his elbow and holds his arm out in front of me.

“See?” he says gently, his head way too close to mine, his breath brushing my cheek. “I have them too.”


I reach out with my human hand and touch his arm. His opposite hand comes up to cover mine.

“If anything,” he says, his fingers gripping mine tightly, “the additions to your body give you character. They tell a story about where you’ve been.”


He pauses, leaning in so close that locks of his hair brush my forehead. “Where have you been, Blythe?”

I know he’s referring to the screams and my nightmare. I wonder if I can put him off like I do the others, but quickly realize by the glint in his eyes that he’s not letting me off that easy. I clear my throat and open my mouth, but no sound comes out. Gage leans forward and presses his lips to mine, taking advantage of my open mouth to nibble on my lower lip.


With a soft sigh, he closes the distance between us and cups my face in his hands, taking my breath away with the simple act of molding his mouth to mine. My hands resting on his thick thighs, I come up on my knees on the bed, leaning into him, trembling both inwardly and outwardly, unsure of what I’m doing or why I’m doing it, but know that I can’t stop. Kissing Gage feels like walking down the street used to be before the government labeled Bionics as dangerous. It feels like freedom.

“Hey Blythe, I couldn’t sleep and I was thinking…”

Dax’s voice trails off as the door to the bathroom we share knocks against the wall, pushed open by my bone-headed best friend who never knocks because he knows I’m never doing anything he can’t see me doing.


Except this time.


This time, guilt propels me away from Gage and back against the headboard, my lowered eyelids shielding me from Dax’s dark glare.

“Sorry,” he says, sounding anything but. “Didn’t realize you’d have a visitor at three o’clock in the goddamn morning.”

 Part of me wants to rip Dax a new asshole for being such a jerk. What right does he have being mad at me when I know he’s screwed Olivia on several occasions, and who knows what other groupies he’s got salivating over him in both Mosley and Hexley Halls? Another part of me feels like I just got caught doing something unforgiveable, although I’m not sure if it was that I kissed someone, or if it’s just the fact that the someone I kissed happens to be Gage.


Author Bio

Ever since she first read books like Chronicles of Narnia or Goosebumps, Alicia has been a lover of mind-bending fiction. Alicia MichaelsWherever imagination takes her, she is more than happy to call that place her home. The mother of two and wife to an Army sergeant loves chocolate, coffee, and of course good books. When not writing, you can usually find her with her nose in a book, shopping for shoes and fabulous jewelry, or spending time with her loving family.


Amazon Author Page | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads | Website | Blog



Alicia is giving away a digital copy of The Bionics (Book One) and Titanium (Book Two), a Bionics bookmark, Readers choice of any other Clean Teen Publishing eBook and a $15 Amazon gift card (INT)

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BookBlitz: Kane’s Bounty by A.S. Fenichel

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Kane’s Bounty
A.S. Fenichel

Genre: Paranormal Erotic Romance

Publisher: Ellora’s Cave Publishing

Date of Publication: May 8, 2013

ISBN: 9781419945052


Number of pages: 163

Word Count: 55,103

Cover Artist: Syneca

Ellora’s Cave      Amazon     BN




Telepathic bounty hunter Kane has one rule—never get involved with a fugitive. It’s a simple assignment with good money at the end. Picking Lena up is no problem. Protecting her when her ex-husband, mercenaries and another bounty hunter threaten her turns into the fight of their lives.

Together, the Stones of Adeline and Lena are powerful magic. She never considered the complication of the sexy bounty hunter and her undeniable desire for him. Their paranormal bond will need to be strong if they’re to survive together.



Book Trailer



A Romantica® paranormal erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave


By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, please exit this site.

An Excerpt From: KANE’S BOUNTY

Copyright © A.S. FENICHEL, 2013

All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.



Chapter One

The overcrowded bar didn’t stop Kane from spotting his mark the moment she walked in. Even if he hadn’t seen her picture, her nervous demeanor would have given her away. It was too crowded to get a psychic read on her, but there were other ways to find a fugitive.

The mug shot hadn’t done her justice. Lena Cruz could stop traffic. Her curves were exactly the kind a man liked to run his hands over and other body parts came to mind too. Her dark hair just touched her shoulders and those bright hazel eyes darted nervously to every corner of the room.

She even looked at him for a second or two. He smiled and moved to lift his glass in her direction, but her focus shifted before he had the chance. He followed her gaze to the corner of the room.

“John Porter,” Kane mumbled. He had to make an effort to relax his grip on the glass before he ended up with a hand full of Jack Daniels and cheap glass. He shrugged and downed the remaining whiskey before getting up and moving to a barstool that was closer and had a better view of the corner. Porter wasn’t alone. He had a couple of his bodyguards with him and a blonde wearing too much makeup.

The band finished their set and the crowd noise lulled for a few seconds.

“It’s nice to see you, Lena,” Porter said. He stood and kissed her cheek.

“I need your help, John.”

Porter’s eyes darted around the bar. “You shouldn’t—”

The jukebox kicked on, and Kane couldn’t hear the rest of their conversation.

It made no difference. She was a mark, no more, no less. He was hired by the bail bondsman to pick her up and bring her in. What she was doing talking to a notorious money launderer was irrelevant.

He’d wait. No need to tip off Porter. Someday he might have to pick the scumbag up and he didn’t want to blow his cover. He signaled the bartender and ordered another Jack on the rocks.

Something niggled at the back of his senses. The atmosphere changed and a familiar mind slipped into his consciousness. “Wade, NO!”

The words were not out of his mouth before Shamus Wade torpedoed through the crowd and crashed into Porter’s table.

Kane was on his feet. He didn’t move forward. Interesting distraction.

All three men and the blonde who was sitting with them stood up as drinks splashed in every direction. Lena stood gape-mouthed, and Wade grabbed her arm. He stood a full foot taller than her and probably outweighed her by a hundred pounds, but she pushed at him and slapped his face. Wade’s beady eyes narrowed. Closed-fisted, Wade punched her in the head.


Mistake. Kane took a step toward them to get a better position and wait to see how the situation played out.

Wade’s head spun around, sensing Kane for the first time. When their eyes met, Kane just smiled and shook his head at the ill-laid plans of the other hunter.

The crowd went dead silent. The music screeched to a stop. Lena looked dazed for a moment and then her knees began to buckle.

Wade sensed the change in the focus of the crowd. Men and women alike were glaring at him and moving closer. “It’s okay, folks. This is my wife. We’re just heading home now.”

The bartender had already dialed 911. Kane could hear the conversation behind the bar. A woman with colorful full-sleeve tattoos, flanked by two enormous men, stepped forward. “I don’t care if she’s your momma. You ain’t going anywhere with that woman. We don’t care for men who beat their women around here.”

“It was just a little misunderstanding. Right, Lena?” Wade looked scared as the crowd moved in on him. Kane felt the building tension and rage in the bar. Anger and fear pulsed in the room, creating a dull ache in the back of his skull. He was sure Wade could feel it too and it was the cause of the hunter’s fear.

Wade still clutched Lena’s right arm tightly.

Lena’s eyes rolled back in her head and she leaned against Wade, forcing him to release her arm and grab her around the waist.

Kane moved in another two steps and sidled off to the left. The crowd pushed forward and Wade pulled his handgun. He waved the Remington 9mm in the direction of the crowd.

Mistake two.

John Porter and his associates bolted for the back door as soon as the weapon came into view.

Kane rushed in just as the two large men and the tattooed woman charged Wade. Lena slipped from his grasp and the gun hit the floor. Kane closed the gap, threw Lena over his shoulder and headed for the back door.

He heard as much as sensed the change in the crowd as the fight started. Kane didn’t know how long it would take the police to arrive or if Wade would get away before that happened. He had to get her to a safe place. He could take her to local law enforcement for extradition in the morning.

The rear exit led out to a narrow alley. Before they’d reached a hundred feet from the noisy bar, she pounded on his back. “Put me down.”

“That was a fine performance, Lena. Why don’t you continue with the knocked-out act for a few minutes more?”




Author Bio


A.S. Fenichel gave up a successful career in New York City to follow her husband to Texas and pursue her lifelong dream of being a professional writer. She’s never looked back.


A.S. adores writing stories filled with love, passion, desire, magic and maybe a little mayhem tossed in for good measure. Books have always been her perfect escape and she still relishes diving into one and staying up all night to finish a good story.


Multi-published in both erotic and historical romance, A.S. has 5 books currently available and three more under contract with Ellora’s Cave Publishing.


Originally from New York, she grew up in New Jersey, and now lives in the East Texas with her real life hero, her wonderful husband. When not reading or writing she enjoys cooking, travel, history, and puttering in her garden.


Find A.S. @



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BookBlitz+Giveaway: Open Flames by Lacy Dane

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Dragon’s Fate Book 2
Lacy Danes

Genre: Paranormal romance

Publisher: Samhain Publishing

Date of Publication: September 24th 2013

ISBN: 9781619217461


Number of pages: 118

Word Count: 32K

Cover Artist: Kanaxa


Samhain Publishing | Kindle | Kobo | Nook




Between hate and lust lies heaven, hell… and smoldering love.

Like his brothers, Madoc is a dragon born by blood magic. Unlike them, he has only once bitten a human in a near-hopeless quest to find his eternal mate. Watching that woman die nearly destroyed him.

Now he works to invent a watch that will rewind time. When he attends the Spectacle of Time in Paris, though, he finds a woman who shakes the foundation of his world and crumbles his ferocious control.

Ever since the black-haired man with the red crescent on his cheek ruined her family, Fina has hated him. When she runs into him in Paris, she is determined to show him just how much. Instead, overwhelmed by the desire to both kill him and bed him, her body betrays her and she melts in his arms.

Sparks fly, and—when his teeth sink into her skin—she ignites. But she can’t run far and fast enough to avoid the burning truth. She is now part of Madoc’s dangerous world?body, soul, and fire.

Warning: This novel contains explicit sex, time-shifting, distance-hopping, a super-hot dragon, and a woman who can take the heat.





Fina rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her stomach. What now? She stepped into the narrow hall and squinted in the dim light. Her stepmother, Catherine, rounded the corner from her pa’s bedroom door. Her thick brown braid hung over her shoulder. As she whirled, her hair, like a snake, thudded against the thick wool on her back.

“I need assistance. Your father is not feeling well. You need to open the shop and stay until I can get him there.”

Of course he felt unwell. Catherine had kept him up until the wee hours, complaining about how little coin they possessed and how he needed to work harder on his next clever clock design. “Certainly, Stepmother.” She would open the shop for Pa, not for Catherine.

Fina pivoted on her heel and away from the woman who had taken possession of their home and made a mess out of everything good that her father had ever done. She wished Pa had never married again. Her jaw tightened.

Catherine did seem to provide him happiness. The way Pa gazed at her when she turned away said everything. He was besotted with her, but Fina simply couldn’t ignore the stress Catherine caused him and herself. Things had been so simple before Catherine had come into their lives. Fina just wanted that life back.

Darting into her room, she grabbed her journal. She would work on a new flower drawing to paint on the face of her pa’s next masterpiece.

Fina rushed out into the alley that separated their home from the next and headed toward the front of Wren Square. She trudged up the narrow path. A cat hissed and came at her from behind a wooden box.

She shied away, and the hem of her skirt caught on the tip of her boot. She tripped, stumbling toward one of the puddles. “Eek!”

Her sketch tablet toppled to the dirt, and she righted herself just before she splashed into one large divot that looked like water but overflowed with the vile who-knew-what that brewed in the bottom of the row.

She had landed in a puddle three days ago, and the dress still stank after four scrubbings. She wished she had more grace but had learned long ago she was prone to tumbling or knocking things over or, simply put…she struggled with her hands and feet. She picked up the cloth-bound book. Thank goodness her drawings had not landed in the bottom of the row. It would be months before Pa could afford to purchase her another one.

She hurried up the rest of the lane and rounded the corner to the front of the shop. She slammed straight into solid, dark heat. “Oh!”

Fingers wrapped about both her elbows and steadied her. She croaked into the froth of soft cotton brocade that smothered her face. The firm grasp released her. She stepped back into the man’s shadow, blinked and stared up and up into a sun-silhouetted face. Gracious, how tall can a man grow?

“Pardon me.” The deep voice raised gooseflesh on her arms. “I am waiting for Peter Byron, clockmaker, to open his shop.”

Fina stepped to his side so she could see him better. “I am here to open the shop.” She smiled and stared up into warm amber eyes. Her stomach fluttered, and she shied away, shifting her hips to ease the unfamiliar sensation. Maybe she should have had more for morning repast, but she was not still hungry. She stepped to the shop door and glanced back once more.

He wore deep brown pantaloons and a long orangish-red-and-gold vest that hung halfway down his thigh. The white shirt beneath had lace at the wrist and ruffles that looked as if he’d a fake beard about his throat. An odd fashion. He dressed like no one she had ever seen. The clothes were tailored and pressed, though. He came from wealth, and he was here to see her pa. She bit her lip. Hopefully he would purchase a clock.

“You are a bit young to be a master clockmaker,” he said.

She jerked her attention to his angular face. What an odd thing to say. An easy smile turned his masculine lips. The sun hit his eyes, making them glint with deep secrets. A red fleck sparkled on his cheek. She stared at the scarlet crescent. How odd; it winked back at her. Everything about this man was odd.

Her stomach fluttered again. What was that? She closed her eyes. Fina needed to stop ogling this man and concentrate. He was a wealthy man here to see her pa. If they sold a clock today, they could rest without Catherine complaining for the next month. She wished Pa would arrive with haste.

She circled back to the duty of opening the door. “I am fifteen, sir. My pa is the master clockmaker. He was up late working on a new clock, so I am opening the shop while he does his morning preparations.”

She jiggled the iron latch and twisted the key. Nothing happened. The door always stuck for her. Why would today be any different? She pushed and jiggled again. “Please open,” she mumbled beneath her breath.

“That is unfortunate.” His callused hand rasped the skin of her hand that held the key. Heat engulfed the flesh, and her heart jumped. She sucked in a breath. How could he be so bold as to touch her? He twisted their joined hands on the key. The lock clicked open, and the heat vanished. She narrowed her eyes, agitated. He wished to help you open the door. Indeed, that is true, but… “Thank you, sir, but you should have asked before touching me.”

He bowed his head in acknowledgment, and his long black hair slipped over his shoulder and tumbled in a smooth swath down to his waist. “I am here because I need a part for a clock that I am making.”

She stared at his loose hair. Beautiful. Could a man have hair she thought was pretty? She had never seen a man with hair so long, so shiny, so perfect. All the men of her acquaintance cut their hair at least to chin length. His shone with glints of red in the strands, as if the morning sun danced off the textured surface. How could hair do that?

It is hair, Fina. She was daft today.

She shook her head and pushed the shop door open. She stepped in, and the tick-tick-tick sound that had lulled her to sleep all her life enveloped her. She relaxed into the cocoon of protection she had always known here. Nothing could ever go wrong in this shop.

The man followed her. “I usually have my clockmaker in Paris make my workings, but I am hoping to obtain this part with haste.”

He was here for a piece of a clock. Disappointment settled in her gut. He may still purchase more. If not today, then tomorrow, her pa always said. “Why would you send all the way to Paris when you have Peter Byron here?” She relaxed her shoulders as she rounded the counter and tucked the keys on the hook that hung below the ledge.

The man said nothing and walked from one of her pa’s tall clocks to a rough-hewn shelf of smaller, intricate table clocks. He leaned in and listened, then nodded. “From the sound of the clocks you have here, I just may have to do that. There is something whimsical about the flower on each face. The feel of the drawing is also echoed in the sound of the clock. Who does the engraving?”

Heat rushed to her cheeks. “I do the drawings, and Pa has them engraved on brass.” He liked her flowers. Though what did he mean by them being echoed in the sound?

“You are talented.” He smiled, and the light in his eyes twinkled.

“Thank you, sir.” She reached up and fidgeted with a piece of her long brown hair that had slipped out of its tie. “Do you have a drawing of the part? I might be able to find the piece for you.”

“I do have a drawing, though you will not have the piece handy. It will need to be made.”

“I doubt that, sir. My pa has extras of all the workings needed to create the fanciest clock you could desire.”

A smirk curled his lips. “I am sure he has many parts… But this is not ordinary. Let me show you.”



Author Bio


Lacy Danes made a New Year’s resolution to write a hot, historical romance. A year and a half later, she achieved her goal. She lives in Portland OR, where besides writing she enjoys horseback riding, gardening and savoring a great martini while watching the world go by.


Find Lacy @







One (1)  Author’s Favorite Things pack: Fun cocktail accessories and recipe,  make up from Lacy’s favorite lines and $60.00 Amazon gift card (US Shipping Only!)

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Release Day BookBlitz: Broken Dolls by BR Kingsolver

Broken Dolls Banner RDB 450 x 169



Broken Dolls

BR Kingsolver

Genre: Urban Fantasy / Paranormal Suspense

ISBN: 9781301813568 (ePub)

Number of pages: 235

Word Count: 79,600

Cover Artist: Mia Darien


Private investigator RB Kendrick makes her living nailing cheating spouses, digging up other dirt to help in a divorce, finding long-lost relatives, and occasionally sniffing out criminal activity and fraud.


When she takes a job to find a missing girl, she has no idea she is headed for the most dangerous case of her career. Usually, her ability to read minds gives her an edge. But when the people she’s hunting are also telepaths, that advantage is limited.


The search takes her into the dark underbelly of telepathic society, where anything, and anyone, is for sale. She discovers that telepathic women and girls are being trafficked as the ultimate sex slaves.


With people trying to kill her, she’s on the run, not knowing who she can trust. Will she find the missing girl, or become a victim herself?




I walked into the restaurant to meet my prospective client, scanned the diners and slipped into the booth with her. She started to say something, then her eyes widened and nothing came out of her open mouth.

“Mrs. Sanders? I’m RB Kendrick,” I said, extending my hand.

“Oh, my,” she breathed. “The description you gave me is wholly inadequate.” She stared at me for a minute, then said, “Copper.”

Confused, I looked around. There weren’t any police in there. “Huh?” I said intelligently.

“Your hair. It’s not ginger, it’s like polished copper. It shines.”

Women notice different things than men. As I suspected from our conversation on the phone, Sylvia Sanders was a norm and so was her husband. What I read in her mind matched what she told me verbally. It’s so much easier when clients tell you the truth. I understood why she had suspicions about her husband. The changes in his behavior and schedule screamed other woman to me also.

“So what do you want, Mrs. Sanders? A report, photos, a confrontation? A basic report of what and who he is or is not doing will run a thousand pounds. Photos catching them in the act are another thousand, if I can get them. Unlike the telly, most people don’t conveniently provide evidence in front of windows with the shades open. If you want to confront him in the act, I’ll accompany you for an additional fifteen hundred pounds.”

She blanched at my rates.

“If what he’s doing isn’t obvious, and I have to put him under surveillance for an extended period, my rates are five thousand a week.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” she said with a quiver in her voice. She gave me a thousand and I wrote down all the pertinent information.

“I’ll check on it this afternoon. I’m going to be out of town for a few days,” I told her. “If I don’t find anything by tomorrow morning, I’ll call you when I get back.”

“Thank you, Miss Kendrick. This has been going on for several months. I don’t think it’s going to change.”

“Mrs. Sanders, you need to think about what you’re going to do if your suspicions are correct. Are you going to confront him and hope he ends it? Or do you plan to divorce him? It’s something you should decide before hand.”

“I want a divorce,” she said. “I know he’s cheating on me. He called a little while ago and told me he had to work late this evening.”


Edward Sanders worked about a mile away. I took the Tube to his building. About twenty minutes after I arrived, I saw him come out and head for the Tube station. Obviously, he wasn’t working late.

I followed him and sat behind him on the train. I read his mind to get his destination, then sat back and used my phone to check my email.

When we left the tube station, I took a slightly different route than Sanders to reach the house of his mistress. I stood across the street and watched as she answered the door for him. I could understand why he was attracted to her. She was even more beautiful than what I had expected from the images in his mind.

I read her mind, also. She was the lonely trophy wife of a successful businessman who traveled often. Edward Sanders was good looking, and twenty years younger than his mistress’s husband. She wasn’t in love with him, but considered him a wonderful diversion. He wasn’t in love with her, either, but was infatuated that such a rich and beautiful young woman wanted him.

The shades in the living room weren’t drawn, and the amorous couple started their activities immediately upon his entering the house. I pulled my camera from my bag and walked across the street and across her lawn. There was a small tree in an ugly plastic pot sitting in the middle of the lawn, and I had to detour around it.

I could see glimpses of the lovers through the living room window, but reflections in the glass prevented me from a good view. It appeared he was doing her on the dining room table. This was going to be the easiest thousand pounds I’d ever made.

I was so focused on what was going on inside that I didn’t see the hole hidden by the small tree sitting in front of it. I should have realized what a potted tree was doing on the lawn. Someone planned to plant it.

I took a step and my left foot found only air. The world spun around and the camera slipped out of my grasp. My chin hit something hard and I bit my tongue.

When I came to my senses, my right leg was sticking straight up and the rest of me lay twisted in the bottom of a hole. My chin felt like it was on fire, and my tongue hurt like mad. It took me some time to get myself situated and crawl out onto the grass. I looked back. The hole was about two feet deep. I spit, and a spot of bright red blood landed on the green lawn.

I picked up my camera and checked it to make sure it was still working. Looking around, I didn’t see anyone. I waited until my head stopped spinning, then crept up to the window. They were still going at it on the table. I took some pictures, but had to wait for them to shift positions so I could get his face. After a few minutes, I had all I needed.

A sudden noise behind me caused me to turn around. A white-haired woman with binoculars hanging from her neck stuck her head out of the window of the house next door.

“You clumsy cow,” she shouted at me. “Get out of the way. You’re blocking the view.”

I retreated in a hurry, and she raised the binoculars, trained on the window through which I’d been snapping pictures.

Case closed. I walked back to the Tube and went home, holding a handkerchief to my still-bleeding mouth.


Author Bio


I made silver and turquoise jewelry for almost a decade, ended up in nursing school, then took a master’s in business. Along the way I worked in construction, as a newspaper editor, a teacher, and somehow found a career working with computers.

I love the outdoors, especially the Rocky Mountains. I’ve skied since high school, with one broken leg and one torn ACL to show for it. I’ve hiked and camped all my life. I love to travel. I’ve seen a lot of Russia and Mexico, not enough of England. Amsterdam is amazing, and the Romanian Alps are breathtaking. I was in Paris and Iceland this summer.
I have a very significant other, two cats and two Basset Hounds. I’m currently living in Baltimore, nine blocks from the harbor, but still own a home in New Mexico.

Find BR @



BookBlitz+Giveaway: A Comedy for Erinn by Celia Bonaduce






A-Comedy-Of-Erinn-eBookTitle:  A Comedy of Erinn

Author:   Celia Bonaduce

Published:  September 19th, 2013 by Kensington Publishing

Word Count:  approx. 75,000

Genre:  Contemporary Romance

Content Warning:  None



Erinn Wolf needs to reinvent herself. A once celebrated playwright turned photographer, she’s almost broke, a little lonely, and tired of her sister’s constant worry. When a job on a reality TV show falls into her lap, she’s thrilled to be making a paycheck–and when a hot Italian actor named Massimo rents her guesthouse, she’s certain her life is getting a romantic subplot. But with the director, brash, gorgeous young Jude, dogging her every step, she can’t help but look at herself through his lens–and wonder if she’s been reading the wrong script all along…

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“You’ve made your point. Now let’s go,” Jude said, trying to take the camera case out of her hands.

“Oh? And exactly what is my point?”

“That you’re the teacher’s pet…the good little camera girl who won’t let a blizzard stop her. Now let’s get out of here!”

The wind picked up and Erinn almost lost her balance. She realized that the ground was starting to freeze underneath them. She admitted to herself that there was no point in being out – she’d never get a shot worth having, even if they didn’t freeze to death.

“When defeat is inevitable, it is wisest to yield,” Erinn yelled to Jude.

“Whatever, dude. Let’s bounce.”

Jude threw the gear in the back and felt his way to the passenger side. They both got in and Erinn started the car. She hoped Jude would stay quiet. She was feeling so shaky.  Not from the cold, but from the realization that she was not being a good producer. To put it in Jude’s vernacular, she sucked!

Erinn tried to pull out onto the road, but the wheels just spun on the ice. Erinn and Jude looked at each other.

“Are we stuck?” Jude asked.

“We can’t be,” Erinn said. “This is an SUV. It must be four wheel drive.”

“Not necessarily,” Jude said. “Do you see any kind of lever or button or anything that would let you switch to four wheel drive?”

“No. There isn’t anything. Are we doomed?”

“Doomed? Jesus, Erinn. You are a glass empty kind of girl, aren’t ya?”

“Actually, I’m a “the glass is the wrong size” kind of girl…woman…but I think that’s beside the point right now. What should I do?”

“Start rocking the car. Put it in first, then reverse, then first, then reverse. Then give it a little gas and see if we can get out of this.”

Erinn started shifting gears and made a mental note. Next time, she wouldn’t settle for anything less than an SUV with four wheel drive.

Miraculously, the car shot forward. Erinn gasped and Jude slapped her on the shoulder approvingly. Erinn turned slightly towards what she hoped was the road…it was so covered in snow that she couldn’t actually see a road, but it must be there. Making sure no one was coming – fat chance, she thought – she started inching the Explorer through the ice and snow. She was creeping forward, when the car became completely unresponsive and started sliding towards the right. Pushing the gas did nothing. Turning the steering wheel did nothing.

“Oh, no,” Erinn said.


“The car has lost traction. We’re skating on the ice.”

Erinn frantically turned the wheel to right and then to the left. The car continued to slide.

“Stay cool, Erinn. We’re on flat ground. Nothing can happen. Just chill.”

Erinn tried to relax, but the car kept sliding sideways, the weight of the vehicle causing it to pick up speed. Clearly, they weren’t on completely flat ground or the SUV wouldn’t be hurling itself sideways, but Erinn decided now was not the time to argue this point.

Erinn felt the vehicle tipping. She was jolted violently sideways and caught, suspended, by the seatbelt. She craned her neck to look at Jude, who was looking UP at her from the passenger seat. The SUV was completely on its side, like a gigantic dead beast.

“Now, we’re doomed,” he said.

Erinn tried without success to free herself from the seatbelt. With every gyration, the belt tightened around her neck. She tried to hold still. She craned her neck and watched Jude brace himself against the passenger door with his right arm. This gave his seatbelt some slack and he was able to release the lever. He thudded against the passenger door, but at least he was free. Erinn felt her breastbone pressing into the seatbelt as she hung sideways. She watched as Jude twisted himself around, crablike, and faced her. She looked into his eyes.

“The camera case,” she said.

Jude sat back on his heels.

“Dude,” he said. “Seriously? Forget the gear right now. We’re in deep shit.”

“The camera…” Erinn breathed heavily. “Check the camera…”

“What are you…one of those freaks who needs to record their own death?

“His or her own death,” Erinn corrected, gasping. “ ‘One freak’ is singular.”

“You are so pushing your luck, lady,” Jude said.

Erinn was running out of breath, and she hung limply forward.

“Come on, Tin Lizzy,” Jude said, wedging his back against her.

He must look like Atlas with me on his back instead of the world.

She had her eyes closed, but she vaguely sensed that he must be standing on the passenger window…or the passenger arm rest. What if he broke one of them? Would the rental company charge them? Did she buy the right insurance? Weren’t they in enough trouble having skidded into a ditch?

Erinn heard Jude’s voice through the fog. His back was to her.

“When I lift you up, you need to unhook your seatbelt. Come on, Erinn, you can do this.”

Jude gave the faintest of pushes, but not enough to lift her.

“Crap,” Jude said. “I can’t get enough traction with the console in the way.”

Jude turned around so that he was facing her. Their eyes met.

“The camera case,” she said.

Jude ignored her, and tried to lift her off the seat belt, but there was no way around the console.

“Shit! Crap!” Jude said.

“Jude…there’s a knife…” Erinn croaked.

“…in the camera case!” he said.

Erinn could hear him scramble to the back of the SUV and unlock the camera case. Erinn was reminded of sounds one hears when one is drifting off to sleep. Every noise sounds strangely amplified – and yet the sound is of no interest. She had the vague sensation of falling and when her head cleared, she was laying on Jude, up against the passenger window. Jude was panting for breath, knife held aloft. She could hear the slit seatbelt clanking behind her.

She reached around Jude’s neck. His expression changed, softening. She touched the passenger window behind his head.

“Thank God it’s not broken.”

“Lady, I have a knife.”

Erinn was suddenly very aware that she was pressed up against Jude. She tried to lift herself off him, but each time she thudded back against him.

Guest Post

What are three things you learned while writing A Comedy of Erinn?

Erinn is a know-it-all, and I had to do a lot of research to keep up with her! I was always goggling grammar tips, author’s quotes, Philadelphia and the Revolutionary War.  If it wasn’t for the Internet, I probably couldn’t have written this book!  I learned a lot – and was a much smarter human by the time I wrote “The End”.

Three of the more interesting tidbits I unearthed for Erinn to spout off about:

1. During an encounter with her new colleagues who are about to embark on a History Channel-esque assignment in Philadelphia, Erinn explains to them that the picture they see of George Washington Crossing the Delaware was not based on reality. The author, Emanuel Leutze, who was a German-American mixed fact with fiction when he painted his masterpiece. The real crossing took place at night in the pouring rain, not during the day with theatrical lighting.  And Washington wouldn’t possible be standing up.  As for the icebergs – they were modeled on the solid sheets of ice that formed in the Rhine River in Germany.  (I’m originally from Philadelphia myself and I can attest that there aren’t any icebergs on ANY of the rivers.)

2. It’s OK to start a sentence with the word “however”.  However, you have to always use a comma afterward.  Of all my characters, Erinn is the most like me and we are both grammar nerds. I bookmarked the GRAMMAR GIRL website – God forbid Erinn ever made a grammatical error!

3.  Everybody says “Never apologize, never explain,” but the whole quote, by Edwin Milton Roy, in his 1916 novel Peace and Quiet, is even better. “’Never apologize, never explain. Get it over with and let them howl.”

On a person note: Erinn uses her superior intellect to keep herself apart from the rest of humanity. She is a hard nut to crack and a very difficult woman to get to know. In order to make her sympathetic to the audience, I knew was going to have to let the audience see that underneath the pedantic exterior – which meant letting the audience see beneath my own pedantic exterior. By the end of the book, I learned that perhaps letting people see the real me might not be the end of the world – or even better, might be the beginning of a whole new world.


Author Bio

Currently a Field Producer on HGTV’s House Hunters, Celia Bonaduce’s TV credits cover a lot of ground – everything from field-producing ABC’s Extreme Makeover: Home Edition to writing for many of Nickelodeon’s animated series, including Hey, Arnold and Chalkzone.

An avid reader, entering the world of books has always been always a lifelong ambition. Kensington eBooks’s The Merchant of Venice Beach, first in The Rollicking Bun book series, will be available August 1st, 2013.


 Celia is offering a tour wide giveaway:

  • 3 x $10 Amazon Gift Cards (INT)
  • 5 Print copies of A Comedy of Erinn (US Only)



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BookBlitz: A Crazy Homecoming by Cate Baylor


A Crazy Homecoming –

By Cate Baylor


Contemporary Romance
Date Published: 8/1/2013
Getting fired over a workplace meltdown was bad enough, but getting dumped at the exact same time by her boyfriend-slash-boss was the ultimate humiliation. With no real friends in L.A. and perennially absent parents, Daphne Simms has no one to turn to. To heal her heart, she runs to the only true home she’s ever known—her grandmother’s rural Texas ranch, called Crazy. She knows ranch folks will be a far cry from those she’s known in L.A., but she certainly doesn’t expect to be greeted by a cranky cowboy shoving a shotgun in her face.
Mick Williams has lived and worked on Crazy for twenty years. Though he’s utterly devoted to Daphne’s grandmother, he’ll be damned if he’s gonna let a city slicker like Daphne sashay in and disrupt his nice, quiet life. When the future of Crazy is threatened, Mick and Daphne must join forces to keep the ranch afloat, but the heat of their attraction makes working together more complicated than either of them imagines. 
When their physical and emotional connection deepens, Mick tries to turn away from the woman he’s convinced he doesn’t deserve, so Daphne has to pull out all the stops to convince him that the heart of Crazy is big enough for the both of them.


As the sun dropped lower in the sky, Daphne decided to walk down to the pasture and check on the new calf. Walking down the road, she marveled at the different smells and sounds of the ranch. The green of the grass and yellow of the wildflowers took on a different, deeper hue this time of day. There wasn’t the deep sense of silence and slumber now as there was at dawn, but rather the pent up energy of a day that was winding down. 


When she got to the fence of the pasture, she didn’t see the mama and Honda, so she slipped through the fence and wandered towards where Honda was born. It took her only a few minutes to find them.


She stopped a few yards away, a bit unnerved by the sheer size of the mama. Honda was busily nursing and oblivious to Daphne’s approach. Mama, on the other hand, never took her big brown eyes off of the intruder. Although she acted wary, her eyes seemed friendly to Daphne, so she circled around to get a better view of Honda. 

I swear he’s grown since this morning. No longer wet and slick, she could see now that he wasn’t black but a deep brown with a white spot on his forehead. His legs looked like wobbly little sticks that couldn’t possibly support the head that seemed way too big for his spindly body. Damn, he’s adorable! 


She was working up the guts to get closer when she heard, “Well, howdy.” 


She nearly jumped out of her skin. She was so intent on the cows that she hadn’t heard Mick approach. Clapping her hand to her chest, she took a few deep breaths to recover.


“Whoa!” he said, reaching out to steady her. “I wasn’t trying to startle you.”


Her heart still hadn’t settled, so she just waved her hand in acceptance of his almost apology. 


“Come to check on our boy?”  


Smiling she said, “Yes. I just couldn’t help it. Has he really already grown? I swear he’s grown.”


“He’s got a lot of growing to do these first few days and he’s certainly got a good start.” 


“How long will he and his mama be out here?” she wondered. 


“Oh, once he’s a couple of weeks old, we’ll probably move them back to the herd.”


“How long will he stay with his mother?”


Surprised at her curiosity he answered. “We try to wait six or eight months before we wean a calf and decide whether to keep or sell it. The nice thing about him being born in the fall is that we’ll have a couple of extra months. If we decide to sell him, he’ll have more time grazing and growing, and will fetch more money at auction.” 


Daphne gasped. “You mean he’s going to be butchered?”


“That depends on what someone buys him for. I doubt it in this case. He’s good enough stock that he’d make a good bull for breeding. On a ranch, selling stock for food is part of how we make a living.” 


“Sure, I know,” Daphne murmured. “I’m not used to having such direct involvement in the circle of life.” 


Mick noticed the shine of tears in her eyes and was immediately riled. “Why is that so upsetting to you people?”


“‘You people’?” she demanded. “Do you mean women?”


“No,” he said, as if he was trying to reason with a child. “I know plenty of women, your grandmother for example, who don’t get squeamish about the fact that our food comes from animals. I mean people like you. Spoiled city slickers,” he sneered.


That, in turn, got Daphne riled. “That’s a nasty thing to say.”


“What? It’s true.” He jabbed his index finger at her. “Just a second ago, you were getting teary eyed over the idea of Honda here becoming the next ribeye you eat.”


“It’s not a genetic defect or a character shortcoming, Mick. I’ve never been around animals, whether they’re cows or goldfish. Choosing which animal becomes my next meal just hasn’t been part of my world. I bet you’d be quaking in your self-righteous boots if you were faced with attending the opera or running a board meeting. I could just as easily make a similar wide-sweeping generalization about you being some overly macho hick. So shove it up your ass, shit flicker.” And with that well aimed zinger she turned to walk away. 


Mick chuckled. “I think you mean ‘shit kicker.'” 


She turned around ready to scream and swear some more but his expression took the steam right out of her. She thought he looked sheepish but wasn’t sure. Carrying on a conversation with this man was confounding and just plain irritating. She seemed to always end up putting her foot in her mouth or wanting to smash it into his. 


“Listen,” she snapped getting revved up again. “I know that for whatever reason you don’t like me or approve of me or whatever. But just because I’m a ‘city slicker’ who’s never lived on a ranch, don’t you dare assume I’m not smart enough or strong enough to understand and appreciate the life.” He looked about as shocked by this outburst as she felt.


“My life fell apart, and when I needed to hide and heal, when I needed love and family, Nana was the one I came to. Nana was the one person I could come to. And she accepted me with open arms. She is my family and the most important person in the world to me, so I’m here for the long haul. It seems to me like that’s something you’re going to have to learn to deal with.” 


Cate Baylor

Cate Baylor has been a technical communicator for over fifteen years. When she’s not writing, she suffers from hobby addiction, which includes (but is not limited to!) reading, jewelry making, crochet, knitting, scrapbooking, cross stitching, and home DIY. She lives in Houston with her geeky husband, three neurotic cats, and precocious Yellow Lab named Tex. She comes from a long line of Texan farmers who are likely rolling over in their graves knowing she’d much rather stay blissfully air-conditioned than suffer outside in the Texas heat. She’s a die-hard Texans fan but hasn’t decided whether she’s willing to embrace the Astros as an American League team.
Connect with Cate on her web site or her Facebook page. You’ll also find her author profile on Goodreads and LibraryThing.
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BookBlitz+Giveaway: Flirting with Danger by Clare Baxter

Flirting with DangerFlirting With Danger

Claire Baxter
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Publisher: Entangled Publishing – Bliss
Date of Publication: September 9, 2013
ISBN: 9781622661435
Number of pages: approx. 190
Cover Artist: Jessica Cantor
Amazon BN


To be together is dangerous. To stay apart is impossible.

Firefighter Jasmine Mackinnon has always just been one of the guys. So no one’s more shocked than she is to find herself kissing fellow firefighter and all-around sinfully handsome playboy Aaron Parkes after a friend’s wedding. Jasmine knows she can’t risk an emotional connection with a colleague—a potentially dangerous entanglement when fighting fires together—and nothing’s more important to her than her job.

Aaron never noticed how beautiful Jasmine was until he saw her out of her firefighter duds, but there’s something about the fiery woman that tempts him. Though he knows pursuing a real relationship is out of the question for a serial dater like him, when their casual flirtation builds into something more serious, it’s not just their jobs or their safety on the line. It’s their hearts.


Book Trailer



Jasmine awoke, surprised that she’d managed to sleep at all, with a raging thirst thanks to downing enough champagne to float a small sailing boat. Well, not so much in truth, but way more than she was used to, and enough to give her a pounding head and make her swear to stay away from Zoe at any future parties Leanne might throw.

As she drank her third glass of water, the full horror of the kiss returned to her with appalling clarity. Aaron might have kissed her first, but she had flung herself at him.

Groaning, she bent over till her forehead met the countertop with a satisfying clunk. But it wasn’t satisfying enough, so she lifted it and let it drop again. And again. How could she have been such an idiot? Of all the dimwits in the world, she was the award-winning, cake-taking number one of all time.

For pity’s sake, if she’d had to lose control, why couldn’t it have been with someone else? Someone she didn’t work with. Someone she didn’t hold in such contempt—outside of work, that was. She had nothing but respect for him as a fellow firefighter. His private life was another matter entirely.

Aaron knew how she felt about his lifestyle; he could hardly be unaware, since she’d made it as clear as she possibly could during the time they’d worked together. And she’d been equally critical of the women who fell for his charm—the charm she’d always claimed to find unfathomable. Now, she’d behaved no better than a woman he’d picked up in a pub.


Author Bio

Claire Baxter writes contemporary romantic fiction of all lengths. Her short stories have been published in commercial women’sClaire Baxter head&shoulders colour medium size magazines around the world, while her novels have been translated into 20 languages and have been nominated in the Romance Writers of Australia’s Romantic Book of the Year Award, the RT Book Reviews Reviewers’ Choice Awards, and the Cataromance Reviewers’ Choice Awards (Winner, Best Harlequin Romance).

Before following her passion to write full-time, Claire was an award-winning corporate communications manager. Earlier, she worked as a translator and a PA.

Claire grew up in Warwickshire, England, but for more than 20 years has called Australia home. She considers herself lucky to live near one of Adelaide’s beautiful metropolitan beaches where she loves to walk and think up stories.











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BookBlitz: Dysus Dreamer by J.A. Garland



Dysus DreamerTitle:  Dysus Dreamer

Author:  J.A. Garland

Published:  July 1st, 2013

Publisher: Burst Books

Word Count:  70,000

Genre:  Urban Fantasy

Content Warning:  Contains violence and minor adult language.

Recommended Age:  18+


Demon warrior, Slade Aesus, is determined to destroy the werewolves controlling his cousin. But a beautiful elf, consumed by her own vengeance, finds the wolves first. Botching her assassination attempt, Annwyn has the most powerful Packs in the world biting at her heels.  Both fiercely independent, can the two join forces long enough to fulfill their missions and stay alive?


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A solid assassination operation takes one part opportunity, two parts discipline, and three parts disposition. Having two out of three this chilly Seattle evening, Slade considered himself in abundance of good fortune.
Parked in front of a solitary office building, in the zone clearly marked “No Parking,” Slade cleared his mind of distractions consisting of the little here and there that could creep in and throw him off, just a hair, but enough to jeopardize his mission. Satisfied, he slid out of the rental car and re-tucked a stylish black golf shirt monogrammed with “Constantine Vineyards” into a pair of crisp, steel gray slacks. In this particular scenario, image was crucial.
Tonight, the element discipline presented itself by his waiting for the precise moment to strike. He made a living analyzing people and their habits, so he knew his targets relaxed around the holidays and were less likely to see the danger lurking behind his smiling façade. The current festivity du jour was Christmas, and coupled with his gift, destined Slade a popular man. I’m counting on it.
He moved around to the trunk, where he heaved free a slatted, wooden case. It smelled of musky oak. The peaceful scent hinted at candlelit dinners shared with a long time lover. His jaw clenched. Not in my past and not in my future.
Slade lugged his precious cargo toward the sprawling metal office building. Immense, the structure stabbed farther into the heavens than any other in the area, yet fell short. Just like my target. Outwardly, Joe Larsen appeared a dedicated family man, a real pillar of the community whose flourishing internet and telecommunications business, ProCom, employed hundreds. In reality, the werewolf belonged to the Dirty Dozen, a group of the twelve most ruthless wolf Packs roaming the earth.
How ironic. I was once your target. A year ago, the Dozen kidnapped his cousin Amber, a half-demon, half-human. Able to keep a shifter from shifting, Amber’s ability proved irresistible, since more times than not, the Dozen’s meetings devolved into an unproductive, fur-flying brawl. We saved Amber, but left behind some unfinished business. Starting with Larsen, the wolves would learn a lesson…a demon’s memory rivals the most scorned woman, and paybacks were indeed a bitch.

JA Garland

Author Bio

Writing under the pen name, J.A. Garland, Jennifer is a full time firefighter in the state of California, an addicted trail runner, a connoisseur of all things cheese puff, and a urban fantasy author. When she isn’t slogging through the obstacles at a mud run, you can find her hunched over her computer unleashing demons, vampires, and werewolves upon the world.

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BookBlitz+Giveaway: Cosmetic Hearts by Kathy Bosman

CoverTitle: Cosmetic Heart

By: Kathy Bosman

Astraea Press

Released July 29th, 2013



Lisa works for a top South African magazine as the make-up artist, but writes articles on the quiet. When the chief editor, Daniel, asks for her help in posing as his ex-fiancée to save face with his family, Lisa agrees, hoping to obtain a promotion in return. She doesn’t expect to fall for the handsome editor nor to fit in with his family who love her unconditionally. But Lisa has more secrets, and she doesn’t believe in love and family. After Daniel finds out her secrets, will his forgiveness and determination be enough to cut through all the layers Lisa has put over her heart?



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It was Thursday, the 30th December, and Dan was rounding off some edits on an article for the February magazine. Kate, the feature editor, needed to come up with something more unique next time. It was too late to change the piece now — okay, maybe he was too tired to bother, and he had the next week to get through. He would worry about her story once the reunion was over.

Lisa still hadn’t had her hairdo. Would they have to lie about her drastically changing her hairstyle to outdated and unsuitable?

He sighed. She was proving to be quite interesting though. He’d rummaged through the bag of presents she’d wrapped and left in his office this afternoon before she knocked off. They were beautifully decorated with ribbons and cards, written neatly in her curly handwriting style. He’d opened the one card and read it, astounded at how she’d written the verse to a poem before a quick “happy Christmas” wish. The woman was into detail. Maybe his family would approve for once. They’d have to get used to the idea that the relationship would end eventually though.

Someone knocked on his office door. Lisa, at last.

“Come in. I thought you were finished work hours ago.”

She smiled at him and then propped her hands on her hips. “So?” She gave a sigh — loud and raspy. “Typical male!”

He gasped. “You had it done finally. Looks great!” Looks more than great. Wow, transformation.

“Thanks.” Her smile was genuine and soft. That was the first time he caught a glimpse into the real Lisa. Maybe she was starting to thaw. Finally.

“Come here.”


“Just listen.”


“No, don’t get that employee-boss look in your eyes. Try to relax and pretend that we actually belong together.” He took her by her stiff shoulders and pulled her into a hug.

“It’s like hugging a statue,” he whispered into her ear. Her soft hair brushed against his tongue. He pulled the strands away gently with his finger and accidentally touched her cheek with his lip.

She stepped out of his grasp. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

She craned her neck around frantically at the doorway.

“Everyone’s gone home.”


“You love that word.”

She giggled.

“Okay, if not a hug, let’s try a kiss.”

Her eyes were wild.

“Have you ever been kissed before?”

She nodded numbly.

“Too bad. You have to grin and bear it. I can’t be that bad.” He reached for her hands, pulled her close and pressed his lips to hers. Sweetness flooded his being, spearing right into his inner core. What was inside this girl’s being that surged into his?

Even though her lips were unresponsive, he kissed her further. Then he pressed her chest against his. For a moment she stiffened, and then she relaxed, obviously realising there was no way out and she had to play along with it. But he wasn’t playing anymore. This was for real. He wouldn’t tell her that though. That would make her run a mile.

She pulled away and turned around, wiping her mouth with her hands.

“Not bad,” he teased.

“I’d better get going now. I’ll see you in the morning.” Her voice was shivery.

“Have you packed yet?”

She nodded, her back to him still.

“See you then.”

She was out the door without showing her face once. The back of her head was gorgeous. That hairdo did something to her whole demeanour. If only it would warm her up to him a little.





Author BioKathy

Kathy loved reading and writing from early childhood, but her dream to write books was put aside until her kids were small, and she had little mental stimulation. The writing became a passion as well as her love for romance. She hasn’t looked back since writing her first romance novel in 2007. She homeschools her three children so in between deciphering algebraic problems for her teenage son (with little success), conducting science experiments, and tackling piles of laundry and dishes, she miraculously finds time to write books and read many others for fun.



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Review: Having Nice Things by Angus H. Day


Author: Angus H Day

Publication Date May 15 2013

Publisher: GMTA Publishing (Imprint: Mythos Press

Genre: Science Fiction


The Earth is hurting from radioactive wastelands, over crowding and a xenophobic fear of the inter system alliance. While adapting Next You Interstellar LLC donated technological innovation to reclaim areas of Earth made uninhabitable by wars of the past, religious and ethical movements threaten to unleash more war. How many people are too many? What can aliens and alien technology do to nudge the balance between war and progress?

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Having Nice Things is a bit different to the previous Next You books. The nanite technology and the Next You company are now in good standing, and it’s agents run rampant throughout the solar system, selling colonization projects to desperate Earth bound people, and acting secret agent -like all around.

Mix in a fanatic religious cult whose members believe Next You an agent of the devil, and who sepread the Nanites of God (who happens to have a name now, he’s called Ahura Mazda of all things), soil reclamation in a post-apocalytic south america, a bill so huge it was paid by handing Antarctica over to Next You. Meet Basil and Miranda, and their particular approach to stuff – anything goes – as they go against morphing nanites no one has seen before, to save Bishop and, incidentally, Earth.

Add to that the mysterious Bremmers and you have a Book. This Next You installment does not dissapoint, if anything, it will leave you hungering for more


Chapter 4: Finding Bishop!

Marcella willed the pod to set down on a flattened portion of slope that had once been the home of a glacier. Since Bremmers were composed of nanites the thirteen thousand feet of altitude did not affect them as it would humans. Once the pod was settled they assumed the physical attributes of a swarm of ants to travel down the mountain and find an entry into the domed city. The ten kilometers of travel to the dome was much faster in this form as they didn’t have to waste energy maintaining the bipedal human shape. Once inside they kept to the shadows until they arrived in a space that appeared to be a vacant classroom with no active surveillance. Reassembling into human form Marcella and Walden waited until they were sure no traffic was moving in the outer hall and exited the room. The hallway cameras would have seen a man in his thirties with thinning hair and a young woman appearing to be in her late twenties emerging from the classroom no doubt having finished whatever subject they were studying. Moving back the way they had entered the building allowed them to exit onto the mall approximately one kilometer from the institute according to the city map. Walden spoke “Let’s take our time about this and make sure we have a clear picture. I see on the map that there is a restaurant halfway between here and the institute that has tables that view the mall. We should be able to profile behavior and passively scan the city from there don’t you think?” “Most of the city, but you’ll notice on the map that the main church we have suspicions about will be on the far edge of our range. If your main goal is to scan for nanite concentrations then we should consider multiple positions.” Walden chuckled gently “My main goal at the moment is to enjoy a pleasant meal with you. I don’t get out often enough.” Marcella had acquired the human ability to blush when embarrassed and this occurred at the mention of Walden wanting a dinner date. “Walden, this is a tactic for blending in correct?” “Yes and no, I do genuinely enjoy your company and I don’t want to pass up this opportunity. Dear Marcella, will you dine with me?” “I will indeed kind sir. Lead on.”

Walden and Marcella strolled down the mall to a restaurant called Flores Tortillera and were seated at a table that allowed a view of the entire mall grounds on their level. As they sat next to each other they joined hands under the table sharing some of each of their nanites to form an independent sensor to detect the proximity of unfamiliar nanites and a separate sensor to specifically detect Bishop. The sensor pack they made adhered itself to the table frame before the waiter arrived to take their orders. As an hour passed they enjoyed their meal genuinely, which improved their ability to blend in, and spoke of things that would not give them away as strangers. Finally the maitre’d approached them with the bill and asked if the service had been to their liking. This was not the same person who had seated them and the sensor package began alerting Walden abruptly when the bill was laid on the table. Looking up from the portfolio which contained the bill Walden could see all of the patrons in the restaurant looking directly at them. The sensors should have not been audible to anyone but them, yet it seemed that everyone was hearing. The maitre’d regarded them for a moment apparently receiving instructions from another source. “I am to tell you that your bill has been covered and a gentleman would like to speak with the both of you in the restaurant foyer. You may take your device with you and have a nice day.” All of a sudden everyone

who had been paying them attention returned their focus to their meals and partners. Walden spoke “Well my dear, we apparently have an admirer. Let’s not keep him waiting.” “Yes Walden.” If we have to escape and evade, agree that we wait no more than an hour at the pod for the other.

Author BioUnysrQCsHopCTiaowXvcgHDQr8kzXXd-AEEoWZfoi-c

Angus day lives in Fort Collins Colorado with his wife and son. His daughter has embarked on her career as a graphics designer. He’s been an Infantryman, Swine Farmer, smattering of other trades and jobs and now a manufacturing pharmaceutical chemist. What aspect of his life that is devoted to fitness favors swimming in open water which means he spends most of the year working out in a pool then hit the lakes when it warms up a bit. His wife, Cheryl, safety kayaks for him when they manage to make it work.

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