Monday, October 26, 2015

Now on Tour Cross Keys: Revelation by Ally Shields

Review tour for Cross Keys: Revelation by Ally Shields kicks off today! Check out the schedule below and make sure you enter the giveaway!

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October 27th
Raquel Gabrielle’s Blog
Review

October 28th
Books are Love
Review

October 29th
CD Yess Writes
Review

October 30th
Happy Tails and Tales
Review

November 5th
Kelly Smith Reviews
Review

Apocalipstick the Book
Review

November 6th
Carmela Barrios
Review

The Reader Haven
Review



Book Description: 

If everyone keeps secrets, no one will survive…

Six months after the nightmare in Cross Keys, Kam Ryndel is enjoying her freedom in New Orleans and doesn’t miss the constraints of Elven society. She’s immersed herself in working missions for the CIA, even if it means less time to spend with her boyfriend, Seth. Seth’s not so happy about that. Having shouldered the responsibility of his family’s obligations, he’s losing patience with Kam’s lack of commitment to her own—and to him. 

Then a guild worker is attacked by an invisible assailant, and everyone suspects another portal breach by rogues from Elvenrude. As Kam and Seth look for answers, a gang-related CIA mission interrupts the investigation, and Kam is taken to a place she never knew existed—beyond the Louisiana bayou.

Angered by Kam’s new mission, Seth enlists the help of his cousin Rhyden to solve the mysterious guild-worker attack. Instead of an assailant, they discover reports of ghost sightings all over town. Not that unusual for New Orleans, but these seem…different. In a mission complicated by gangsters, feuds, failing magic, and old enemies—and the uncertain loyalty of the Elven king—Seth learns something even worse. Kam is missing. And he isn’t sure if she’s alive or dead…

Excerpt:

Swamp water lapped against the small watercraft, rocking it gently. Kam shifted on the hard seat of the airboat’s cramped quarters, pushed a strand of dark hair away from her face, and studied the forty-something man across from her.

Noah Crain, senior agent, CIA. Sweat beaded on his forehead from the unrelenting humidity of the late July night. He wiped it away and squinted at the bundle of American one-hundred-dollar bills in his hand. The single dim lantern barely lit the enclosed cockpit—a rarity on swamp boats—but Crain was a covert operative. He didn’t like doing business in the open.

He flipped through the bills and looked up at her. “Counterfeit. As I expected. They flood our country with drugs to support their terrorist activities and then add to the insult by paying their pipeline with funny money.” With a soft plunk, he dropped the currency next to two identical packets on the extra seat beside him. “Thanks for bringing this. We’ll take it from here. Another great job, Kam. There’ll be the usual deposit to your account.”

She shrugged. The money was immaterial. Born into the wealthy Ryndel family in Elvenrude, she’d never lacked for anything. The CIA missions were merely small challenges for an Elite dark elf, amusing adventures. “I need to go. I’m late.”

“About that…” Crain frowned at her. “Rescuing the girl wasn’t part of your assignment. You could have been caught.”

“But I wasn’t. I either do these missions my way or not at all.” How could he expect her to leave a fourteen-year-old girl in the hands of the Mexican drug lords? Yes, she’d had to deactivate the invisibility magic and reveal her presence in order to lead the girl out of that stinking hole. But it had been worth it. Kam relaxed her shoulders and took the edge off her tone. “I’ll be more careful in the future.”

He sighed and shook his head. “I wish I could believe that.”

Two minutes later, Kam leaped off the boat and sped across the swamplands of southern Louisiana, headed for New Orleans. She was glad to be going home and drew in a deep breath of the moist, earthy air. Her feet skimmed the ground as she watched for alligators or vipers or unstable ground. Even at her magically enhanced speed, a misstep into a watery hole or on the wrong head or tail could lead to disaster.

Kam swung her head toward a dim flash of light, a blurry movement on her left. Alligator hunters? She wound her fingers around the invisibility amulet dangling from her neck and invoked the magic, then paused on a patch of solid ground. Now that she couldn’t be seen, she took her time peering around. Alert for any furtive movements out of sync with normal swamp activity, she had almost given up when something whipped past a few feet away, leaving only the faintest ripple in the marshy grasses.

A chill crept across her neck. A whiff of magical energy. A ghost? A vampire? She’d heard stories of all kinds of strange sightings in and around New Orleans but never seen anything supernatural except her own people. She waited. A minute crawled by. And another. When nothing else occurred, she continued toward the city.

Every sense was on edge, but she reached the outskirts without a repetition of the puzzling magical trace. As the density of buildings increased, Kam used the ancient magic in her silver wristband to leap onto the rooftops and run across the cityscape.

Bio:

Ally Shields grew up in the Midwest, taught school on the East Coast, has visited forty-two of our states, and currently resides near Des Moines, Iowa, with her miniature pinscher, Ranger. Writing has always been a part of her life, and in late 2008, after  a career in law and juvenile justice, she turned to full-time fiction writing. Her first urban fantasy novel, Awakening the Fire, was published in 2012, followed by six additional books in the series. She loves to travel in the US and abroad and incorporates many of those settings into her books. Ally enjoys talking with readers and is active in social media.

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Now on Tour - Hopebreaker by Dean Wilson

Review Tour for Hopebreaker by Dean Wilson kicks off today! Check out the schedule below and follow along!

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October 26th
The Indigo Quill
Spotlight

October 27th
Happy Tails and Tales
Review

October 28th
CD Yess Writes
Review

October 29th
Reading, Writing and Whatnot
Review

October 30th
The Reader’s Hollow
Review

November 2nd
Books are Love
Review

November 3rd
The Reader Haven
Review

November 4th
CBY Book Club
Spotlight


Book Description:

In the world of Altadas, there are no more human births. The Regime is replacing the unborn with demons, while the Resistance is trying to destroy a drug called Hope that the demons need to survive.

Between these two warring factions lies Jacob, a man who profits from smuggling contraceptive amulets into the city of Blackout. He cares little about the Great Iron War, but a chance capture, and an even more accidental rescue, embroils him in a plot to starve the Regime from power.

When Hope is an enemy, Jacob finds it harder than he thought to remain indifferent. When the Resistance opts to field its experimental landship, the Hopebreaker, the world may find that one victory does not win a war.

Excerpt:

The walls crashed down and the soldiers stormed in, replacing bricks with leather boots and stones with clenched fists. The dissonance died down, but the dust hung for endless moments, dimming the light and stinging the eyes. Yet Jacob did not need to see; he knew why they were here, what they had come for.

A figure, tall and broad, stepped into view, his hair and uniform as black as the long shadow he cast across the room. His fists were not clasped, but the anger was still there, pouring out of the cracks and crevices of his crooked face. Everyone could recognise him, even in darkness—especially in darkness. Everyone knew his name. Domas. Yet not everyone knew what he was.

You are accused of smuggling amulets,” Domas said. He paced to and fro restlessly, until the very floor began to recognise him. The light from the oil lamp flickered on his face, creating and killing lots of little shadows. Those shadows made him look inhuman, but under any other light he looked like everybody else. Jacob remembered when he was first told about them by his father. They are like you and I. They walk among us.

What evidence do you have?” Jacob asked, hoping they would not search the bookcase, hoping they would not scour his soul.

Domas drew close, seizing Jacob by the collar. “I don’t need evidence.”

Jacob parried Domas’ glower with his own. He felt like responding, like snapping or biting, even though he knew it would not help. It would make him feel better for the briefest of moments, and then, as the soldiers responded with their fists, it would make him feel much worse. The words of his father haunted him like a demon. In time they will replace us.

Take him to the Hold,” Domas barked to one of his commanders. He turned to leave, but halted as something caught his eye. “Open your hand,” he ordered.

It’s a bit late to shake it.”

Open your hand,” Domas repeated. He did not need to give a warning. His tone gave enough.
Jacob offered his left hand, which was empty.

A clown as well as a smuggler,” Domas said. “Your other hand.”

Jacob reluctantly loosened his grip on the tiny bag of coils he was holding, his all too meagre payment for smuggling an amulet into the city. Domas snatched it from his grasp.

You won’t be needing this,” he said. “In the Hold, the rent is free.”

The soldiers seized Jacob and pulled him outside, where a mechanised wagon waited, one of the many vehicles the Regime used to transport its forces—and its prisoners.

In moments Jacob was hauled up and hurled into the back of the warwagon, where he banged his head against the iron walls. He heard the cogs and pistons start up, and he heard the roar of the furnace and the rhythm of the wheels.

The smell of coal and smoke filled his nostrils and seeped into his lungs, until finally he faded off into a halfway place between the waking world and dreams, where he imagined what things might have been like if the demons had not come here, if the Regime had not gained power.

Bio:
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Dean F. Wilson was born in Dublin, Ireland in 1987. He started writing at age 11, when he began his first (unpublished) novel, entitled The Power Source. He won a TAP Educational Award from Trinity College Dublin for an early draft of The Call of Agon (then called Protos Mythos) in 2001.

He has published six novels to date, and is working on several others.

Dean also works as a journalist, primarily in the field of technology. He has written for TechEye, Thinq, V3, VR-Zone, ITProPortal, TechRadar Pro, and The Inquirer.

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Sunday, October 4, 2015

Now on Tour - Sinners by J. Richards

One week tour for Sinners by J. Richards kicks off today! Check out the schedule below and follow along for reviews, guest posts, spotlights and interviews! And definitely enter the giveaway!


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October 5th
Lovely Paranormal Books
Review

Love, Life and Booklust
Review

October 6th
Patricia Marques Writing
Review

CD Yess Writes
Spotlight

October 7th
Lola White
Spotlight

October 8th
JJs Kinky Books
Review

October 9th
Boom Baby Reviews
Guest Post

Books and Banter
Interview


Book Description:

Not all who wander are lost...

Tabitha LeCaire searches the kink clubs in San Francisco for the Dom who can push her limits, yet still appreciate the finer points of manners and grace, which she’s worked so hard to master. When a friend introduces her to a mysterious masked man, Tabitha thinks she may have finally found her match and eagerly accepts his collar. But she may have made a mistake—as they say, marry in haste, repent in leisure.

Self-made businessman Nathan Battle loves his new little sub. But he can’t let her know that. Pushing her to forget her proper manners, he offers her a collar, hoping to keep her subservient to his needs. For now. Because Nathan doesn’t do relationships.

Until family issues demand he return home, and he realizes he doesn’t want to go without his little slave. And when his mother falls in love with Tabitha, and his brother starts making eyes at her as well, things can only go from bad to worse. Until they hit rock bottom when he finds his brother and his little slave in bed...

Reader Note: contains BDSM, spanking, BBW heroine, wax play, dominance and submission, and strong erotic romance elements

Excerpt:

For most people, a phone call at five a.m. would be a cause for worry. Is someone hurt, in jail, or worse? As for me, I get excited every time my phone rings, no matter the hour. I roll over to my side and grab my vibrating phone. I hold it up in the dark to see the name on the ID. Just seeing his name is enough to make my panties wet. I sit up quickly and place the phone to my ear.

“Yes, sir?” I rub at my sleepy eyes and slip from the comfort of my bed. He never calls unless he needs me.

“My office. Now.” That’s all his dark voice utters before he ends the phone call. His office is downtown, so I have no time to waste. I jump in the shower; the water hasn’t even had a chance to heat up before I run a razor over my legs. He likes every inch of me to be smooth. My hands slip in the soap foaming and bubbling over my skin. Chill bumps rise under my fingers as my mind begins to wonder what he has planned for me.

Knowing he will tear away whatever panties I put on, I forgo them and slip into my pencil skirt. I tuck in a button-up blouse that will offer him a glance at my lush cleavage as soon as I enter the room. The thin white fabric does nothing to hide my hardening nipples. I could blame the peaks on the cold shower, but we all know better than that. My nipples are begging for his touch, for his tongue to trace the edges of my areolas and for his teeth to sink into the hardened nubs until I whimper for mercy. Mercy only he can give me, if he is so inclined. By the tone in his voice, I don’t imagine he is in a very giving mood.

Once in my car, I jab the accelerator, which feels awkward under my stiletto, and glance at my watch. Five twenty a.m. He is either having a very late night or a stupid early morning. I steer the car toward his big office building and pray he understands I did my best to hurry.

I run my fingers through my still-damp hair and sigh. He won’t be happy that I didn’t blow-dry it. He hates when I tempt fate and wear my hair wet in the chilly morning air. Rolling down both the windows, I ruffle my fingers through my locks and hope the air current will help speed up the drying process.

I pull into the parking garage and smile to myself when hardly any cars are in the lot. I’ll have him to myself. No secretary waiting outside his door, making me avoid screaming out my pleasure. I hate keeping it all bottled inside when he torments my body. No coworkers to smirk and chuckle as I exit his office, looking like a hot mess. I enjoy when it’s just us, but when those people are around, I feel only pride when I leave him. Their stares and judgmental giggles can’t take away the peace he offers me. My phone chimes.

“Where are you?” I can’t decipher his mood through text.

“The elevator, sir.” I press the button for the sixteenth floor. The ride up feels like a lifetime.

The doors open and I step out onto the marble that will lead me to him. At the end of the hall, his office doors are open. They are never left open, and this makes my belly tighten.

I stop at the plush carpet at the doorway and lower to my knees with grace, a talent one achieves only with much practice. The tightness of my skirt doesn’t allow me to part my knees like I am supposed to. I worry my lip between my teeth. Why did I choose this skirt? There isn’t anything I can do about it now. I slip my arms behind my back and tangle my fingers together.

His fingers fly over his keyboard. The sound echoes throughout the empty space. His office is large and masculine, like him. His bulky desk fills the center of the room, a brown leather couch sits to the right, and a wall of windows spans behind him. He is working in the dark. The city behind him is slowly waking up, and the skyline twinkles with the coming sun.


“Strip,” he says without looking at me. His laptop screen illuminates the hard planes of his face, his expression offering me no indication of his mood. This mask of his drives me wild.

Bio

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J. Richards is a twenty six year old mother and wife. She was born in a small town in New Hampshire, which she left at the age of eighteen to marry the love of her life. Leaving everything and everyone she had ever known to live down south with her new husband. They have now been married for almost eight years and are raising a wild child of a daughter. Her husband is in the military and because of that, they have shared the joys and struggles of moving around the country.


J. Richards has always loved reading and writing, dreams of becoming a published author seemed just that, only dreams. In 2015, with encouragement from a friend, she submitted a short story to etopia press and was beyond surprised when they wished to publish it. She now has four works under contract and a very hot series in the making.

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