Giveaway – Forgiven Are The Starry-Eyed by Christine Dore Miller @cdoremiller @XpressoTours

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Forgiven Are the Starry-Eyed
Christine Doré Miller
Published by: Evernight Teen
Publication date: April 26th 2019
Genres: Contemporary, Young Adult

Naïve sixteen-year-old Andrea Cavanaugh is elated when Josh, a charismatic, bright-eyed piano prodigy, becomes her first boyfriend. But the closer she gets to him, the more she realizes that he is not the boy she first fell for. In its poignancy and emotional darkness, Forgiven Are the Starry-Eyed takes you deep into the delicate and devastating web of shame that spirals from the depths of dating violence when dreamy teenage love turns dark. Andrea must find not only an escape, but a belief that she is even worthy of freedom.

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EXCERPT:

My eyelids closed as if they were being drawn down by sluggish, unhurried weights. When I forced them open after several seemingly endless moments, nothing had changed. I could still make out a blurry image of Josh standing nearby, Mr. Thompson’s hands clenched firmly on Josh’s shoulders from behind. There was a crowd, I think, and muffled voices. The steel school locker felt cold against my back and I recognized the familiar feeling that lately seemed to just dwell and ache in my bones. Fear, I think it was, mixed with just enough madness to keep the blood racing through my veins … fast. Too fast.

“Why did you do that, Andrea?” Josh shouted in my direction.

My eyes fell closed again. I don’t remember what else he said. I just remember the feeling of each overly pronounced syllable piercing the air while he said it. I stared through the darkness that danced behind my heavy eyelids. What had I done?

I tried to pry open my hazy eyes to examine the faces of the expanding crowd as they stood, mouths agape. I only recognized a few. There were hardcover music books sprawled open on the tile floor at my feet. Confused, I looked to Josh, but the heavy silence of the room deafened any words he may have been saying. I gripped the ends of my soft, thin hair between my slender fingers and waited. Each thought sunk deeper than the last.

There was a poster taped sloppily against the locker behind me. I turned my head to face it and focused. The ends were curled up and there were ripples in the masking tape adorned to the edges. “Oakwood High School Invitational—TONIGHT” it read in handwritten purple block letters. There was a pixelated saxophone image pasted underneath the words, “Brought to you by Mr. Thompson and the Oakwood High Jazz Band.” I brought my hand up to trace the edges. The poster board felt crisp and thick under my fingertips. I could smell the aftermath of the permanent marker. The loud reverberating voice behind me got softer until it resembled a deep echo I could easily ignore. I started to pick at the tape from the bottom left corner of the poster until I felt the sticky residue ball up underneath my fingernail.

Suddenly the life reentered my body in one abrupt breath when I felt a strong tug on my arm. I turned and saw Ethan Marks. Everyone else was gone. Had it been minutes this time? Hours?

“Andrea! Come on,” he barked at me, interlacing my arm, tucking it quickly under his. He jerked me to a standing position and pulled me down the hall, speeding up his gate as I stumbled to catch up.

“Where’s Josh?” I asked worriedly, but he didn’t answer. We were silent as we walked through the empty hallway. I lifted my gaze, trying to catch Ethan’s eye, trying to read his thoughts. His light blue eyes, usually sparkling with laughter, were steely and somber as he charged forward, dragging me with him, away from the wreckage I’d caused.

He stopped short and took a deep breath. His eyes were unyielding and dismal as they studied me, and slowly his frustration melted into a deep sadness.

“What happened, Andrea? What was that back there?”

“I don’t know…” My voice began breaking. My thoughts were muddled beyond recognition and I couldn’t form the right words, or any words, to explain.

Ethan wrapped himself around me in a gentle, firm embrace. It felt kind. And warm. And wonderfully different. My muscles unclenched for the first time in months, and I didn’t know I was crying until I tasted the salt as it stained my face. I buried my head into Ethan’s chest as he tightened his hold on me. I wanted him to say something, to tell me everything would be all right, but we both knew better. So we just stood there, Ethan supporting me as I clasped the back of his cotton t-shirt between my fingers.

After a few minutes, I fully returned to my body as my breathing calmed. I steadied my stance and took a step backward, shakily holding Ethan’s forearms as I regained my balance. Wiping smudged mascara from my pale face, I met Ethan’s eyes and quickly looked down, fixating on a crack in the tile below me.

“Hey,” he started, “Andrea … it’s…”

“I’m okay. Ethan, I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to … I’m sorry I … ugh your shirt.” I motioned to the tear stains on his light green tee that crept from his chest to his shoulder.

“Oh God, don’t worry about that. Andie, I just…”

“It’s fine.” I wiped my face and took a deep breath. “Thanks,” I said, squeezing Ethan’s hand and looking in his eyes sincerely, so he knew I meant it. “I should go. But thanks.” I shook my head and turned around to walk back into the havoc and face what I had done. I felt Ethan staring at me as I left. He was just another person whose life would’ve been better if he hadn’t met me. I swallowed, took a breath, and kept walking.

It was over for now, that latest incident, and there was no way to tell when there would be another one … but there would definitely be another one. I was too broken for it to be any other way.


Author Bio:

Christine lives in the Los Angeles area with her husband and their two children. She works full-time as a senior marketing manager for a large media company and holds a Bachelor’s of Business Administration degree from Western Michigan University where she studied marketing. Growing up in the chilly midwest, she developed a deep passion for dramatic writing and alternative music at an early age, which still peaks through in her adult-corporate-mom life today. Forgiven Are the Starry-Eyed is Christine’s debut novel.

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Giveaway – Animal Attraction by Kate Willoughby @Kate_Willoughby @XpressoTours

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Animal Attraction
Kate Willoughby
(San Francisco Dragons #2)
Publication date: April 27th 2019
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Sports

What do you do when an NHL player steals your dog and won’t give it back?

Maggie Hudson made a heartbreaking decision nine years ago that has haunted her ever since. To fill the hole in her life, she showers her rescue dog with love and affection. But one day, Kirby goes missing.

Six months later, NHL player Spencer Corbett is astonished when Maggie shows up on his doorstep demanding her dog back. He’d found the pug on the side of the road, collarless and in bad shape. But even when confronted with hard evidence she’s the dog’s owner, he begs her to reconsider. His own elderly dog is on her last legs and Kirby has given her a new lease on life.

After Maggie relents, Spencer can’t help but fall for her. Not only is she the most compassionate and selfless person he’s ever met, she’s witty, intelligent and sexier than sin and doesn’t even realize. What starts out as a friendship quickly turns into more, but when a woman from Spencer’s past throws everything into chaos, their fragile relationship is put to the ultimate test.

Animal Attraction may be read and enjoyed as a standalone sports romance!

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Request a review copy here!

EXCERPT:

What kind of jerk didn’t give back a person’s dog?

The PR man said he had personally given Corbett the message only a couple of hours after she’d called. As the days continued to pass with no word, Maggie grew increasingly frustrated and even angry.

Finally, she decided to take matters into her own hands. Kirby belonged with her and damned if she was going to let some immoral, spoiled, self-centered jerk who only pretended to be a nice guy for the public, get away with keeping her dog, even if he was an NHL player.

After making the decision to hunt down the dog-napper herself, she had watched the video segment again, this time watching for clues as to where he lived. They mentioned Hillsborough. Of course. Very high-class neighborhood. That narrowed it down quite a bit. He dropped the name of an Italian restaurant he frequented that was “within easy walking distance” of his house. That narrowed it even further. She printed a map of the area and marked a three-block radius out from that restaurant. They showed a few seconds of him walking away from his house with the dogs on a leash and she froze the video and took a picture of the view.

Then because he mentioned a team party he was hosting to watch the All-Star game, she decided to go to his house and accuse him of dog-napping in front of all his friends. With any luck, peer pressure would make him give up Kirby. Was it going to be horrid, shaming a Dragons player when for more than ten years she’d rooted for the team with all her heart as a hockey fan? Yes. Could she have gone to the media and exposed him the way Jade had suggested? Yes.

But what it all came down to was she thought he was morally despicable and she wanted to tell him so to his face. She wanted the satisfaction of taking her dog away from him personally.

It took her about fifteen minutes of search-cruising before she found his place. Looking toward downtown San Francisco, the view matched the photo.

As she parked her car, the realization hit her that she was about to barge in on what might be the entire Dragons hockey team. Before she’d arrived, all she’d focused on was getting Kirby back. She’d imagined herself going in and righteously claiming her dog. Her main emotion had been indignation. Now, a case of the jitters undermined her determination.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

She looked up at the spectacular two-story house. The sprawling property looked as if Arts and Crafts architecture and Japanese landscaping had a baby. Lush mature trees cast shade over mossy rocks and boulders. The wooden bridge leading to the front door crossed an actual pond, complete with brightly colored koi fish. As she looked around and the luxuriousness of the neighborhood sunk in, the jitters progressed into near-panic. She’d passed the Sierra Point friggin’ Yacht Club on her way, for Pete’s sake.

No. She would do this. Kirby was hers. Even if she couldn’t offer him posh digs like these, they belonged together. She’d had him since puppyhood. They had a bond that couldn’t and wouldn’t ever be broken. Even now, he was probably wishing he were home with her, cuddling on her old sofa watching reruns of Friends and eating microwave popcorn. She told herself the players were only people, like her. People with unusual, high-profile jobs and bodies like gods.

She went up to the front door where a sign said, “Come on in. Hope you brought beer.”

Gathering her courage, she knocked anyway.

No one answered. And it was kind of quiet. Maybe the party hadn’t started yet.

She tried the door and found it unlocked. Before entering, she took a picture of the sign, because if this devolved and the police were called, she wanted evidence that, technically, she was invited in.

“Hello?” she called hesitantly, crossing the threshold into the foyer.

The house was just as gorgeous on the inside as it was on the outside. She’d seen it on the video, but in person, it felt richer and more personal. A San Francisco Dragons player actually lived here. Spencer Corbett occasionally sat on that couch. He walked on this plush rug.

He—gulp—was standing right there, staring at her.


Author Bio:

USA Today bestselling author Kate Willoughby is in love with the sport of hockey and the entire Los Angeles Kings team. Having lived most of her life completely uninterested in professional sports, she is surprised at the intensity of her enthusiasm and her growing collection of Kings merchandise: a Dustin Brown jersey (covered with autographs), 3 T-shirts, 5 lapel pins, 3 hats, earrings, several play-off towels, 2 replica Stanley Cup Champions banners, a Christmas ornament, blanket, a car windshield sticker, a license plate frame, and the pièce de résistance, an autographed collector card with a swatch from Justin William’s game-worn jersey.

Yeah. Don’t judge her.

She resides in Los Angeles with her husband, their two sons, and a Chihuahua named Mochi.

She is also a member of the Romance Writers of America and winner of the 2009 EPPIE Award for Best Fantasy/Paranormal Erotic Romance and the 2016 EPPIE Award for Best Contemporary Romance.

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A War Is Brewing – Devil’s Dance by Jeff Altabef @jeffaltabef

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Such a fabulous cover for Jeff Altabef’s Devil’s Dance.

Publisher: Evolved Publishing

Devil's Dance: A Gripping Supernatural Thriller (A Nephilim Thriller Book 2)

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MY REVIEW

It is the future, 2042, and he is a killer, a warrior for the angels in the upcoming battle between good and evil. He is a Nephilim, born from a human mother and an angel father, fighting on the side of the angels in the coming Great Struggle.

Technology…to the point where what you see is not always what you get. What looks all shiny and new can be a pile of junk.

Very interesting technological angle. I love a story that makes me question…Just because we can,, should we?

Then my conspiracy gene rises up…is there an ulterior motive?

Devil’s Dance is the second book in the in this thrilling Nephilim series. Jeff Altabef does a fantastic job of creating a world of possibilities and humanity’s ability to rise to the occasion. I love stories of battles between good and evil with otherworldly characters. They make me stretch my imagination and let the author take me away…into a fantasy world where everything is possible.

I voluntarily reviewed a free copy of Devil’s Dance by Jeff Altabef.

Animated Animals. Pictures, Images and Photos
4 Stars

GOODREADS BLURB

An amazing new technology engineered to make people smarter, a series of gruesome murders, and a mystery so dark, it threatens everyone.

I’m a Nephilim, born of a fallen angel father and a human mother. This makes me special in ways I don’t fully comprehend yet.

A war is brewing between angels and demons, and like it or not, we’ll all have to choose sides. I’ve chosen the side of angels, a curious decision for me, not only because I’m a killer, but because I enjoy killing. Still, an angel promised me that redemption is possible—even for me—and he needed warriors on his side. Did he tell me the truth? I hope so, but who can I trust?

In a small, sleepy, tourist town, an old friend asks me to help solve a series of gruesome murders that have been plaguing the town, but these aren’t just random crimes. Somehow, they’re connected to this war between angels and demons. I prefer working alone, not having to worry about others, but I team up with a self-described anti-technology hooligan, and a beautiful bartender I immediately fall for. If only they knew what I know. The foe we’re facing is way more powerful than anything they can imagine.

I must solve the mystery before it’s too late, because I’m certain of this one thing: everyone’s soul is at stake.

EVOLVED PUBLISHING PRESENTS an intriguing, thrilling look inside a great battle between good and evil, with the second book in the award-winning “A Nephilim Thriller” series. [DRM-Free]

ABOUT JEFF ALTABEF

Jeff Altabef is an award-winning author who lives in New York with his wife, two daughters, and Charlie the dog. He spends time volunteering at the writing center in the local community college. After years of being accused of “telling stories,” he thought he would make it official. He writes in both the thriller and young adult genres. Fourteenth Colony, a political thriller, was his debut novel. Evolved Publishing has published Jeff’s second thriller, Shatter Point, which won the Pinnacle Book Achievement Award for Fall 2014 in the category of Best Thriller.Jeff’s first young adult novel, Wind Catcher: A Chosen Novel will be published in March by Evolved Publishing. He’s extremely excited that his daughter, Erynn Altabef, is his co-author on the Chosen Series. As an avid Knicks fan, Jeff is prone to long periods of melancholy during hoops season. Jeff has a column on The Examiner focused on writing and a blog designed to encourage writing by those that like telling stories.

You can follow Jeff on Facebook, Twitter, or join his newsletter!

MY JEFF ALTABEF REVIEWS

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