Category Archives: Excerpt

Giveaway – Taming the Troublemaker by Kadie Scott @XpressoTours @AOwenBooks

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Taming the Troublemaker
Kadie Scott
(The Hills of Texas, #3)
Published by: Tule Publishing
Publication date: March 21st 2019
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

One daring kiss with the playboy tempts the good girl, but can she tame him?

Autry Hill may be a cowboy to his boots, but he’s also gained quite the reputation as a charmer and playboy. His parents aren’t sure he’s ready to take the reins of the family’s prosperous Texas ranch, so they set up a challenge: No women or scandal for the next six months and the ranch house he grew up in is his. Easy peasy, Autry thinks. He’s already tired of late nights and romancing, until elementary school teacher Beth Cooper happens to cross his path. Suddenly Autry is losing his heart, his mind, and what’s left of his reputation.

Good girl teacher Beth Cooper is far too practical to fall for Autry Hill, even if she had a crush on him way back when. The man’s been breaking hearts since middle school. But when he becomes her unexpected champion and then they work together to help one of Beth’s troubled students who’s about to lose everything, she sees a different side of Autry – serious, compassionate, determined and dedicated. And that Autry is nearly impossible to resist. Does she need to?

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

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EXCERPT:

Autry made his way to the parking lot, happy to be heading home early. Getting punched by Lawson Miller in a bar had not been on his agenda tonight. Not retaliating had been a feat of inhuman control he hadn’t realized he possessed. He rubbed a hand over his cheek and hoped like hell he hadn’t got Michelle in a heap of trouble. He’d say this for Larson, the guy could sure pack a hell of a wallop.

“I’m getting too old for this shit,” he muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face. The dark growl of thunder nearby agreed with him. Good thing he was leaving early. Maybe he’d avoid the approaching storms and get home ahead of them.

Back to the ranch, the house that was nearly his, and the general restlessness he’d been experiencing for months now. Like he was standing at a crossroads, but none of the roads had signs, so he wasn’t sure which way to go. He’d seen how happy his siblings were, settling down with one person who knew them like no one else and loved them. Not that he was ready to settle down, by any means, but take the ranch and build up the dreams in his head? That he could do.

But first he needed to win this damn bet.

Tell that to Stella Aikens, who’d sidled up to him at the bar, obviously tipsy. “I saw what Larson did. How’s your poor face?” Not wanting to be rude, Autry had thanked her only to be landed with a hand on his thigh way too close to his crotch and a whispered, “I hear you’re amazing in bed…”

Holy shit. What happened to flirting? A little effort? He wasn’t some sure thing.

Granted, once upon a time, he would’ve taken Stella up on the invitation. Not because he was all that interested. More like why say no to what she was clearly offering? But that had been a hell of a long time ago. Had the women in La Colina County not got the message that he wasn’t into a quick fuck anymore?

He flipped his keys in his hands in restless twirls, hardly registering the tinkling sound of metal on metal as he did. Or maybe Mom’s right and I sowed my oats. Now I’m figuring out what’s important in life.

Autry gave a mental snort. No way was he telling his mother that her homespun sayings had actually sunk in at any point.

“Um, hi, Autry.”

The slightly nervous female voice pulled him out of his musings and Autry glanced up to find Beth Cooper sitting on the tailgate of a truck parked beside his. She slipped her heels back onto her bare feet and hopped down, teetering for a second on the uneven ground.

Immediately he reached out to steady her and his body stirred with interest, a reaction he shut down as quickly as it started. Beth with her big blue eyes and sweet personality. He’d put her squarely in the “off-limits” box way back in high school. The woman was an elementary school teacher for heaven’s sake, definitely not the girl he took behind the bleachers in the gym and…

Autry turned off that mental image with a haste born of desperation. Off-limits. He also realized he was staring at her, not having responded to her greeting. Beth was giving him that look, one that said she worried about him sometimes. He’d caught that look from her before.

“Hi, Beth.”

“Is this your truck?” The edge of nerves made itself present in the way she fluttered her hand as she waved at the Tundra beside them.

“Yes,” he said slowly.

She grimaced and mumbled something like, “Of course it would be you.” Only he wasn’t entirely sure that’s what she’d said. Then she tugged on her skirt, a nervous habit he recognized from when they were kids.

“So…” She gave him a cheery smile. “I have a funny story.”

Autry hid a sigh. After a hell of a couple weeks, leading up to a hell of a night with Larson and then Stella, he didn’t have time for whatever Beth thought was funny. “Beth, I need to go home. It’s a long drive.”

“That’s fine. I get it. But I need to explain why my purse is… um… is locked in your truck.”

Autry paused as her words sank in, then had to stop himself from taking a couple steps back as shock skittered through him. Beth Cooper—sweet, innocent Beth—was… hitting on him?

Author Bio:

Award-winning contemporary romance author, Kadie Scott, grew up consuming books and exploring the world through her writing. She attempted to find a practical career related to her favorite pastime by earning a degree in English Rhetoric (Technical Writing). However, she swiftly discovered that writing without imagination is not nearly as fun as writing with it.

No matter the genre, she loves to write witty, feisty heroines, sexy heroes who deserve them, and a cast of lovable characters to surround them (and maybe get their own stories). She currently resides in Austin, Texas, with her own personal hero, her husband, and their two children, who are growing up way too fast.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Pinterest


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Giveaway – Alpha Challenge by Lia Davis @novelsbylia @XpressoTours

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Alpha Challenge
Lia Davis
(Shifter of Ashwood Falls, #10)
Publication date: March 25th 2019
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance

Feral, unstable, and hungry for blood are a few words used to describe a rogue. They also describe Alec Andrews’ leopard. The man is broken. The only things keeping him sane are his family, his pack, and a mate he can’t claim. Because claiming Rhea will bring her spiraling down with him the day the darkness wins.

The wolf den mother, Rhea Scott will make Alec hers. Whatever it takes, she will tear down the walls he has built around him and his heart. The stubborn male thinks he’s protecting her by denying the mating pulling. He’s not the only one with a past he can’t run from. Rhea isn’t worthy of the pedestal he places her on. And she had never been a weak female.

A new enemy rises out of the fallen Onyx Pack’s ashes. When a group of kids is taken, Rhea’s wolf goes into protection mode and won’t rest until the kids are home safe. No one was going to stop her. Not even the hotheaded, sexy, alpha male, Alec Andrews.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

—

EXCERPT:

Standing, she stretched and picked up her cup. Just as she thought, cold. She crossed the living room to her kitchen. She placed the cup in the microwave and push the quick start button to warm her cocoa. A knock sounded on her front door.

Glancing at the clock and noting it was still early—7:00. The knock sounded again and she went to answer it. Alec’s handsome, cocky smile greeted her when she opened the door.

Damn if all her lady parts didn’t spark to life seeing him. Her wolf nudged her move closer, take a bite. Stepping aside, she motioned him inside. “Come in.”

He stuck his hands in his pockets as he moved farther into the living room. “I came by earlier, but you weren’t home.”

“I went for a run.” She closed the distance between them.

He looked into her eyes and she could see his cat looking back at her. Damn, he smelled good. “Why are you here, Alec?”

His gaze narrowed and he tilted his head slightly. “Come to see you.”

There was something else beside him just stopping by. No matter how much he’d chased her, he never showed up out of the blue. He’d call first. “You saw me earlier.”

Okay, that might have been uncalled for, but she was tired and amped up at the same time. She didn’t have the energy to fend him off.

He opened his mouth then closed it. After several more attempts he finally formed words. “We need talk.”

She raised a brow. “We do?”

Frowning, he stepped closer so the heat from his body washed over her. His scent enveloped her, tearing down her resistance against him. It’s been too long since she’d had sex. She couldn’t do it with anyone as long as her mate was in the Pack.

“You should leave.” She turned to put some space between them.

Alec grabbed her upper arm and pulled her into his body. She whimpered and internally cursed herself for the weakness. He pressed his lips to her neck and her pussy ached and pulsed. Damn him.

“I want you so bad it hurts. I’m tired of waiting, Rhea.” His breath was hot against her flesh.

When his words sank in, her heart danced and her blood heated. Her wolf howled. “What…wait.”

Pausing, he studied her with brows drawn. “Don’t run from me, from us. If I’m not your mate tell me, and I’ll leave.”

Leave? Her heart hammered and her stomached soured at the thought of Alec not being in her life every day. He couldn’t leave the Pack because he was the Marshal, which meant she’d have to be the one to leave. She’d known he was her mate from the moment she met him thirty years ago. However, she was in mourning and still messed up from the head job Royce did on her. Becoming the den mother had helped her heal and focus. Alec had become a friend.

When he finally admitted she was his, she tried to deny it. She ran and pushed him away because he didn’t deserve someone as broken as she was. Someone with a past like hers.

Author Bio:

In 2008, Lia Davis ventured into the world of writing and publishing and never looked back. She has published more than twenty books, including the bestselling A Tiger’s Claim, book one in her fan favorite Ashwood Falls series. Her novels feature compassionate yet strong alpha heroes who know how to please their women and her leading ladies are each strong in their own way. No matter what obstacle she throws at them, they come out better in the end.

While writing was initially a way escape from real world drama, Lia now makes her living creating worlds filled with magic, mystery, romance, and adventure so that others can leave real life behind for a few hours at a time.

Lia’s favorite things are spending time with family, traveling, reading, writing, chocolate, coffee, nature and hanging out with her kitties. She and her family live in Northeast Florida battling hurricanes and very humid summers, but it’s her home and she loves it!

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter


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Giveaway – The Next To Last Mistake by Amalie Jahn @AmalieJahn @GoddessFish

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This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Amalie Jahn will be awarding a $20 mazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Tess Goodwin’s life in rural Iowa is sheltered and uncomplicated. Although she chooses to spend most of her free time playing chess with her best friend Zander, the farm-boy from next door, her skills as a bovine midwife and tractor mechanic ensure that she fits in with the other kids at East Chester High. But when her veteran father reenlists in the Army, moving her family halfway across the country to North Carolina, Tess is forced out of her comfort zone into a world she knows nothing about.

Tess approaches the move as she would a new game of chess, plotting her course through the unfamiliar reality of her new life. While heeding Zander’s long-distance advice for making new friends and strategizing a means to endure her dad’s imminent deployment to the Middle East, she quickly discovers how ill-equipped she is to navigate the societal challenges she encounters and becomes convinced she’ll never fit in with the students at her new school.

When Leonetta Jackson is assigned as her mentor, she becomes Tess’s unexpected guide through the winding labyrinth of cultural disparities between them, sparking a tentative friendship and challenging Tess to confront her reluctant nature. As the pieces move across the board of her upended life, will Tess find the acceptance she so desperately desires?

Read an Excerpt

I stand without making eye contact with anyone else in the room, especially Mrs. Alexander who’ll block me from leaving if given the opportunity. I gather my books hastily into my arms and run for the door. After skidding into the hallway, I make a beeline out to the student parking lot.

By the time I get there, Leonetta is already waiting for me, leaning against the hood of my car.

“Shortcut,” she says as I approach. “There’s a delivery corridor behind the closest stairwell to Mrs. Alexander’s room. Comes out right over there.” She nods toward a door on the side of the building, not twenty feet from where we’re standing.

Despite the storm raging inside me, I grin at her. She’s a good friend. A great friend. I should’ve known she’d come after me.

“What’s going on?” she asks as I sidle up beside her.

I consider saying ‘nothing’ and leaving it at that. I don’t want to talk about my epiphany, but I can’t lie to her. She’ll see right through me.

“You remember the guy, Zander, my friend from back in Iowa?”

“The one you talk about all the time?”

I glare at her. “Not all the time.”

It’s her turn to raise an eyebrow at me.

“Okay, I talk about him sometimes,” I concede. But then I stop. I can’t find the words to go on.

“What about him?” Leonetta urges, nudging me with an elbow.

“I…” I’ve never said the words aloud and it’s harder than I thought it was going to be. “I love him,” I say finally.

She makes a small sound. A bit like a laugh but more like a contented coo, as if she’s a baby and I’ve been tickling her toes. “I know.”

It feels almost like she’s punched me in the gut.

“You know?” I say. “How is that even possible? You’ve never even met him.”

She lays a hand on my shoulder, and if it had been anyone else doing it I would have thought it condescending, but since it’s Leonetta I’m certain she’s being sincere.

“Honey, that wistful look you get whenever you talk about him… There’s never been any doubt in my mind about your feelings for him.” She narrows her eyes at me, searching for something in the lines of my face. “Don’t tell me you’re just now figuring it out.”

Am I just now figuring it out?

“I’m afraid we might end up like Catherine and Heathcliff because we’re exactly like them, and I don’t want that for us. We were kids together. We grew up together. We have this thing between us that’s so much bigger than simple friendship. When Catherine says ‘I am Heathcliff,’ I totally relate. Because I am Zander, whether I want to be or not. I can’t separate myself from him because so much of who I am is tied to who he is. Our history is long and deep. But since we’ve been apart, things have changed.” I take a deep breath, surprised at how easily all of this is flowing out, but I focus, forcing myself to come to the point. “What destroyed Catherine and Heathcliff was their refusal to embrace change. They didn’t let their love mature. If my friendship with Zander is going to survive, it’s what we need to do.”

Leonetta shrugs. “So, you gonna tell him?”

My heart stops. “Tell him I love him?”

She slides off the hood of my car. “Yeah.”

“I don’t know if I can. At least not right now. Not while we’re so far apart.” She scowls at me. “I will, though, eventually. Maybe this summer if he comes to visit.”

“What if he never comes to visit?” she asks.

Tears pool in the corners of my eyes. “He’ll come,” I tell her. “He has to.”

About the Author:
Amalie Jahn is a USA TODAY bestselling author of more than 8 young adult novels, including The Next To Last Mistake, her latest release (Light Messages Publishing 2019). Amalie is the recipient of the Literary Classics Seal of Approval and the Readers’ Favorite Gold Medal for her debut novel, The Clay Lion. She is a contributing blogger with the Huffington Post and Southern Writers Magazine, as well as a TED speaker, human rights advocate, and active promoter of kindness. She lives in the United States with her husband, two children, and three overfed cats.

When she’s not at the computer coaxing characters into submission, you can find Amalie swimming laps, cycling, or running on the treadmill, probably training for her next triathlon. She hates pairing socks and loves avocados. She is also very happy time travel does not yet exist. Connect with her right here in the present day at these social media sites:

Websites – http://www.amaliejahn.com and lightmessages.com/amalie-jahn
Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/AmalieJahn
Twitter – https://twitter.com/AmalieJahn
Instagram – https://www.instagram.com/amalie.jahn.official
Visit http://www.amaliejahn.com to join Amalie’s FREE Readers Group and in addition to receiving promotional discounts, sneak peeks, and monthly newsletters, your membership will now grant you exclusive access to bonus material (shorts and novelettes) delivered right to your inbox!

Amazon – https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1611532647/ref=as_li_tl
Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-next-to-last-mistake-amalie-jahn/1129761093?ean=9781611532630
Apple – https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/the-next-to-last-mistake/id1439682885?mt=11&ign-mpt=uo%3D4
Kobo – https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-next-to-last-mistake

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Giveaway – Beneath The Broken Moon by Sarah Makela @sarahmakela @XpressoTours

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Beneath the Broken Moon: Season One
Sarah Mäkelä
Publication date: March 18th 2019
Genres: New Adult, Paranormal, Romance

Carmela she struggles to choose between the alpha werewolf she’s destined for and the vampire she’s enchanted by, but the wrong decision could lead to deadly consequences…

Werewolf relationships are all about influence and offspring, especially as the species is becoming extinct. Carmela Santiago resents that type of life. She dreams of falling in love and being happy, not following the dismal example her parents have set.

When sensual vampire Derek Ashmore rescues her from dangerous hunters, she tumbles head over heels for him. Not a wise decision since werewolves and vampires are mortal enemies.

Meeting her caring mate-to-be Brendan Kelly has her further questioning the future. Regardless, her life has forever changed now that she’s met not one, but two men who pull at her heartstrings…

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

Carmela

Bullets peppered the big screen of the Teatro de la Noche. Screams rang out around me, and I dropped to the floor, pulling my cousin Chandra down with me. Tension ached in my shoulders, and my heart pounded in my chest like a trapped animal, desperate to escape.

Gunpowder stung my sensitive nose, but through the overpowering scent, I caught a whiff of a hunter heading our way. “Chandra, we have to move.”

If Chandra and I didn’t get out of here we’d end up dead—or worse, test subjects for the Cazador—human hunters ordered to scour the land of nocturnes by the plutocratic government.

“How? They’re all around us.” Chandra peeked over the seats before dropping back down beside me. “A few of them are chasing down those who ran from the first assault, but two more are heading straight for us.” She ran a manicured hand through her honey-brown hair, which was only a shade darker than my own. “Come on. I have a plan. Let’s try to sneak out the side door.” She crawled in the opposite direction, down the row of seats.

The sight of my cousin’s butt cheeks hanging out of her short skirt filled my vision; some things were better left unseen. I lowered my gaze, particularly since Chandra had forgone panties. She almost always held herself with an air of power and purpose. Perhaps that’s what it took to get attention from other werewolves. Chandra got it in heaps, but her lower social status stopped a lot of relationships.

While it was a horrible time to second-guess my modest fashion sense, I couldn’t help wonder if I should take a lesson from my cousin. My own blouse and dark blue jeans had much less pizzazz. But I doubted my father would allow me to dress like Chandra; we had a privileged image to uphold.

I bit my lip, struggling to turn my thoughts back to the problem at hand. This was all too much. How could we get out of here unscathed when the roar of gunfire continued to close in?

We reached the end of the aisle. Chandra moved to glance over the seat, when a shout came from the opposite end, startling us both.

“Run, Chandra!” I barely kept my voice to a whisper.

She sprinted toward the bright red exit sign at the front of the theater, and I chased after her, trying to keep my pace natural though her long legs made it challenging. Maybe if they suspected we weren’t nocturnes, they’d leave us alone.

The stomping of heavy boots on the theater’s plush carpets said otherwise. Then again, they weren’t opposed to taking their fellow humans down too. The very rich in power thrived on oppressing those less fortunate. What better way to keep the populace down than to have their thugs strike whenever possible.

“We should split up.” Chandra shoved a heavy trashcan in front of the door, but that wouldn’t be much of an obstacle to the pseudo-military bastards.

“What?” I couldn’t believe my ears. “No way. If we do that, we’ll—” The trashcan scraped the cement as the hunters tried to open the door. Maybe she was right. If we were together, there was a better chance of them catching us both. Alone, we might survive the night.

I nodded to her, and we took off in opposite directions down the alleyway behind the Teatro. The door slammed open, smacking the wall hard, as I turned the corner and headed toward the main street. I had to find somewhere to hide out before the hunters spotted me again.

In front of me, another group of Cazador chased a few werewolves down the main road. I slowed to keep my distance from them, but if I didn’t get somewhere fast, they were going to catch me. Ugh. As much as I loved getting out of the house and going to the movies, I wished I’d listened to my instincts tonight and stayed home.

Two sets of feet pounded the sidewalk behind me. Perhaps they’d spotted me before I reached the corner.

I picked up speed a little, pumping my arms as I struggled to keep to a human speed while staying out of range. The temptation to race through the streets nearly drove me to action, but I glanced back, seeing my pursuers for the first time.

One of the men had greying hair and a rounded belly, which explained the slower, heavier footfalls, while the other guy appeared younger and super-athletic. No wonder I was having trouble getting away. If he hadn’t been so scary, he might’ve been attractive. Pure masculine aggression raged through him, tensing his shoulders as his gaze focused solely on me, his prize. Each man carried a large-caliber handgun. I was just glad they were too busy running to try to shoot me…for now, at least.

My sandal hit an uneven patch of concrete in the sidewalk. My body lurched forward, but I caught myself before I could go down. I should’ve been paying more attention to the street. Up ahead on the opposite side of the road, I spotted a dark alleyway running alongside a row house. If I cut through, I could safely turn up the speed without exposing myself, and lose them.

The older hunter slowed; his breathing had become increasingly labored. He cocked his revolver’s hammer, and I darted across the empty road, making a beeline for the alley. The last thing I wanted tonight was to see Dr. Matthews. Just a little bit farther. A bullet smacked the ground at my feet, hitting me with fragments of pavement. I bit back a yelp, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of knowing my fear.

“I got this one, old kook,” the younger hunter grumbled, and his footsteps slowed too.

Another gunshot pierced the hazy night air. White-hot pain rocked my shoulder, nearly toppling me to the ground. I screamed, unable to hold it in, and picked up speed, no longer caring if I appeared human or not. The faint creak of a door barely registered before a pair of arms wrapped around my waist, jerking me inside the dark row house.

My rescuer softly shut the door, careful not to make a sound, and shoved a hand over my mouth. “Sshhh,” he whispered. “I won’t hurt you. You’re safe.” His voice was deep, with an English accent. He pulled me away from the door and hunched down in the darkened room, holding me close, waiting and listening.

Agony clouded my thoughts, but I couldn’t let myself lose focus.

Footsteps thundered through the side alley. I stiffened at the sound. The hunters’ harsh voices and the clanking of metal were the only differences between them and a herd of cattle. They made no attempt to disguise themselves, taking delight in the fear they provoked. The Cazador weren’t true predators, but they held power over their fellow humans and the weaker of the nocturnes.

I stayed silent in my mysterious savior’s arms. Thoughts of my cousin Chandra sparked inside my mind. She was still out there. What if the Cazador found her and killed her as they’d tried to kill me?

This man had saved my life. I needed to do the same for my kin.

His large hand flexed slightly, crushing my mouth. I placed my hand against his wrist, hoping he’d release me, since I no longer heard the disgusting Cazador who hunted me like an animal. How had I gotten myself into this mess?

Shifting my weight, I groaned as my shoulder brushed against his smooth chest, my arm hanging limply by my side. The bullet must be impairing my movement. I doubted even shifting into wolf form would fix this right now. What was I supposed to do? Not even my people were immune to blood loss.

The scent of death crept into my nostrils, which could only mean one thing: my savior was a vampire. In this weakened state, he could easily end my life, and I wouldn’t be able to stop him.

But why would he save me? Maybe he required his next meal. An icy shiver slithered down the length of my spine. For the first time, I felt real fear.

If only I’d insisted on returning home from the Teatro sooner instead of catching the night’s second movie, we wouldn’t have been there for the raid. Already my energy waned due to the rocky power of the three raging moons. The added exertion of running from the Cazador and getting shot strained my body even more.

Somehow, the Cazador had known nocturnes frequented the Teatro. Who would give that kind of information away? Wolves wanted the same pleasures in life that humans desired.

My savior readjusted his grip on me, brushing against my upper back. I swallowed a scream, unwilling to alert anyone who might be listening outside this man’s home. This vampire’s home. Clenching my teeth, I pulled at the vampire’s wrist. I would not be his victim.

He remained steadfast, proving my weakness. “Don’t scream. Don’t run. Don’t do anything that would force me to hurt you, because I’ve had a lot of practice.” His crisp voice caressed my ear, and his breath moved tendrils of light brown hair, tickling the flesh on my neck. “Do you understand?”

While he meant the words as a threat, I couldn’t help the way my body responded to his intensity. I nodded, forcing my thoughts back into place. If he attacked, I needed to remember my Militia training.

The vampire released me, but he stayed still, as if waiting for my next move.

Slowly and carefully, I scooted away and turned to face him. My eyes had gradually adjusted to the darkness, allowing me to see more clearly in the dimly lit room than a human would. What a sight he was. I brushed my fingertips over my sore lips.

Crouching in the shadows, he wore a navy-blue dress shirt with the buttons undone to show off his pale, sculpted chest, and dark jeans that snugly fit his long legs. I’d only seen a few vampires, and none of them had looked this exquisite.

My eyes widened as he ran a hand through his shoulder-length black hair. His gaze had dropped to my lips, and I lowered my hand. Hunger burned in his deep blue eyes; I prayed it wasn’t bloodlust.

What was I thinking? Our species didn’t see eye to eye on anything except survival. The Feud between vampires and werewolves had raged on for centuries now, since well before bickering humans shot the moon with a nuke after a resource dispute and nearly killed the world’s population. Little did my ancestors know just how much and how fast the world would change. Instead of bridging the gap, vamps and wolves had grown even further apart. No one remembered what or whom first started the divide, but neither race spent any effort on diplomatic relations.

Kill or be killed.

I took a deep breath and sat a little straighter. With space between us, my fear lessened. The Militia had taught me to defend myself against hunters and other nocturnes. They made sure I wouldn’t be easy prey for the enemy. Of course—they preferred to have my womb protected, since it ensured our race would live on.

Bitterness soured my taste buds, and the urge to spit overwhelmed me.

Admittedly, vampires were the hardest foes to defeat, and I couldn’t practice my skills much these days. Not with Father keeping me almost literally a prisoner in my own home.

But if I had to fight this vampire, I would go out having inflicted a lot of pain.

“Why did you help me?” I asked, keeping my gaze on the wall near his head. No way would I look into his eyes. While I was strong, I wasn’t stupid. His kind could easily manipulate, and I had no idea what he had in mind.

“I think it was your caramel-brown eyes, love.” He leaned into my line of sight, but I looked away. Instead, he closed the space between us in a heartbeat and gently stroked his index finger along my jaw.

The sudden intrusion on my personal space had me jerking away, but with my back so close to the wall, I had nowhere to run. “How could it have been my eyes?” I crossed my good arm under my breasts, but that drew his attention down to my chest. Not what I’d intended. “I’m sure you couldn’t have seen them while I was running from the hunters.”

With a sensual swipe of his tongue, he licked his lips. His gaze lifted to meet mine, but I quickly averted my eyes. “You caught me.”

Author Bio:

New York Times & USA Today Bestselling Author Sarah Mäkelä loves her fiction dark, magical, and passionate. She is a paranormal romance author and a life-long paranormal fan who still sleeps with a night light. In her spare time, she reads sexy books, watches scary movies, and plays computer games with her husband. When she gets the chance, she loves traveling the world too.

Want to learn about new releases? Sign up for my newsletter! http://bitly.com/SarahMakelaNewsletter

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Giveaway – Drop Dead Gorgeous by Donald Allen Kirch @Storywriter1967 @SDSXXTours

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Drop Dead Gorgeous
by Donald Allen Kirch
Genre: Horror
1# Wished for High Tech Science Fiction Novel in Japan!
The Sensational #1 All-Star Bestselling Kindle Novel!
“Would you like to hear a story?”
The man couldn’t help himself. His captor was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her powerful eyes held his attention and made him forget that she had him confined in a basement; his hands and feet bound with duct tape. His heart raced as he meekly nodded his head ‘yes’ to the question.
After getting past the terror and discomfort, he reasoned that there was nothing to worry about. He would be missed. He had loved ones who would call the police. All he had to do was wait. Letting this woman tell him a story was as good a stall as any.
The mysterious woman weaved a tale of betrayed love and unwanted, unnatural experiments placed upon her. Of a loving wife, working on a top secret government program. Of a husband searching for love in all the wrong places. The prisoner couldn’t believe what he was being told. A descent into insanity, fueled by a jealous rage, ended with using the tools of science for torture and revenge.
With every blink of her lovely eyes, licking of her full lips, and heaving of her perfect breasts, the captor entertained a story most bizarre. Of a woman bent on teaching her cheating husband a lesson.
The prisoner wondered….”Am I next?”
DONALD ALLEN KIRCH lives in The United States of America. He is an avid reader of history, Sherlock Holmes Mysteries, the paranormal, and is a “hardcore” Doctor Who fan. After spending two weekends in the famous “Sallie House,” a “haunted house” in Atchison, Kansas, he is one of the only authors of his craft who can claim to have been attacked by a ghost!
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Giveaway – The Demon King’s Destiny by C A Worley @caworleyauthor @XpressoTours

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The Demon King’s Destiny
C.A. Worley
(Fate of Imperium Series, #3)
Publication date: February 25th 2019
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance

When Marrok, the Demon King of Sundari, meets his fated mate in the dreamworld, he ignores the pull of the saatus bond. He has no desire to make a life with the female, not with his past being what it is. Unable to deny the bond for long, Marrok accepts his demon spirit’s need for its mate. He plans to use their connection to prevent him from turning rogue, while keeping his heart safely buried in the past.

Since the age of six, Evelyn has been dreaming of the Demon King. When she starts having visions of his past, old betrayals are brought to light, including an ancient brotherhood who has been working against the pair for decades. Knowing Marrok may never love her in the way she loves him, Evelyn chooses to fight for their future anyway. She’ll protect everyone she loves from the insidious group—or die trying.

***The Demon King’s Destiny is the third book in the Fate of Imperium Series. Each book is the story of a different king and his fated mate. While the three books do not have to be read in order, it is highly recommended.

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EXCERPT:

Evelyn felt the change before she opened her eyes. Her stance widened and her hands flexed with her magics.

No calm breeze brushed across the clearing. Tonight, a blistering wind struck her form, its howling whistle bounced irritatingly off her eardrums.

Instead of soft blues and purples, the moon was giving off shades of red and orange. Flames crackled and licked the trees of the forest, but nothing was burning. The dreamworld, or something in it, was irritated.

Slowly, she rotated, seeking information, waiting for the elements to speak. They buzzed, drawing her attention to one of the paths connecting the clearing to the woods.

The fire split into columns on either side of the trail and a form emerged from within the inferno. Tall, with broad shoulders and a lean trunk, the male stalked forward.

Blackened eyes locked on hers, so intense she felt them in her core. Long, predatory strides moved him directly in her path. Without thought, Evelyn opened the barrier and he stepped into the clearing.

The wind screamed and the only other sound she could hear was the boom of her thundering heart. He advanced swiftly, everything about his approach screamed he was a man possessed. His intent couldn’t be clearer.

In two second she was in his arms, his mouth slamming into hers. This first kiss—the first she’d ever experienced—was hard and unyielding. It was nothing like she had imagined, and almost more than she was prepared to receive. This wasn’t the kiss of a lover. It was a punishment.

Evelyn gasped and Marrok took advantage of her parted lips, driving his tongue into her mouth. Her fingers clenched the fabric on his shoulders as she trembled in his embrace, struggling to stay on her feet.

Her veins throbbed, her heated blood reaching a rapid boil. His arms tightened and she knew he’d never let her fall.

Evelyn felt him everywhere. His powers slid up and down her skin, caressing, inciting. Their shared breaths depleted her of oxygen and tiny pinpoints of light burst from behind her eyelids.

The high-pitched winds built into a crescendo and the blazes roared. Higher and higher until the dreamworld exploded with a blinding radiance, bathing their bodies in the white of their magics before returning once more to muted colors and a calm breeze. The forest was once again covered in purple and blue moonbeams.

The world settled, along with Marrok’s spirit. He’d been on the verge of something terrible. He’d gotten worse every day without his saatus. Another two years without her was out of the question.

Feeling once more in control of himself, he slowed the kiss, bringing a hand up to palm the back of her head. His lips drifted to the corner of her mouth, then to her temple, before dropping to her ear.

“Never again, moj draga,” he warned, biting her earlobe.

She shivered. “P-pardon?”

“You’ll never again wait so long to summon me.” He failed to mention his own unsuccessful attempts to enter her world.

Evelyn, still reeling from his arduous assault, took a moment to process. He was upset she hadn’t pulled him into her dreams. She smiled against his chest, then tipped her head back.

“Missed me, did you?”

“Don’t tease.”

“I’m not. I just wanted to hear you say it.”

“I don’t know you well enough to miss you. But I never imagined, little mate, once I’d confirmed for you that you were my saatus, you’d wait so long.”

Evelyn attempted to free herself from his arms. He didn’t budge and she glared up at him. “And I didn’t think, once you confirmed for me that I was your saatus, you’d do absolutely nothing to find me.”

He let go and she felt oddly bereft when he put space between them.

“So you didn’t call for me out of some sort of revenge?” he snapped, trying to let go of the last of his frustration.

“What? Of course not. And what makes you think I didn’t call for you?”

A muscle in his jaw ticked. He glared at his gorgeous mate, who had physically matured greatly in these last two years. Evelyn would be twenty-one by the next solstice, which meant she’d reached full physical maturity during their time apart.

Her cheekbones were more pronounced, giving off a regal countenance. Her small nose pointed to two full, pouty lips, still swollen from their shared passion.

Her breasts were larger, rounder, making her waist appear tiny. Maybe it was tiny. He was having trouble concentrating, caught between spanking her arse and kissing her senseless again.

“I think you didn’t call for me because I haven’t seen you in almost two and a half years, Evelyn.”

A thrill shot through her. Marrok really was upset about being away from her. He must have missed her greatly. “I’ll remind you I have no idea how you come to me in my dreams. Besides, I thought demons could break into the dreams of others, if they chose.”

His arms crossed, not liking the reminder. He, too, had tried everything he knew of to enter her dreamworld. For more than two years he’d desperately hunted her in his sleep, needing the touch of her skin to sooth his mind. With every attempt, he came up against a barrier he could not breach.

He’d come close to riding on Gwydion to retrieve her. When he’d last left, she’d been battered and bruised. He wanted to know of her health, to look upon her with his own eyes. The dreamworld was the only safe place to do so.

Several more attempts had been made by the rogues to breach the walls of the Terenuskit Fortress, the building he called home. Only the constant fighting kept him away from his mate. It reinforced the fact she would not be safe in Sundari.

Marrok was the strongest of his species. It was too risky for him to travel to the Westland and leave his people vulnerable. Or, worse, risk rogue demons following him. He was loath to bring her to the Southland. What was he to do? He felt like he was fighting on every front of his existence.

Evelyn licked her lips and he fixated on the reddened skin. He hadn’t intended to be so rough and he certainly hadn’t expected her to return with equal fervor. His trousers had grown uncomfortably tight, a direct result of her enthusiasm.

“If it means anything,” she said, “I did try reaching out to you. I’ve tried every night since. I was afraid you wouldn’t come for me so I tried to pull you here. I thought … I was afraid something had happened to you. They cut you.” Her voice whispered the last part sadly.

Marrok’s face softened. His mate had worried he’d been harmed. He reached for her and she didn’t resist his embrace.

Resting his chin atop her head, he told her, “I tried, as well. Dreamwalking is tricky business and, obviously, I was just as unsuccessful.”

“Why didn’t you come for me? To Gwydion?”

“My kingdom is not a safe place to be. I’m not inclined to endanger you.”

“Then don’t bring me to Sundari. You can still come to see me, to visit, maybe speak to my father?” she added hopefully.

Marrok exhaled. “Walk with me.”

He spoke with no emotion and Evelyn’s heart plummeted. He wasn’t going to come for her.

Author Bio:

C.A. Worley is the alter-ego of Romance Author Cass Alexander. Where Cass tends to focus on humor in her publications, C.A. loves to write fantasy. She chose to write under the two different monikers so as to not confuse (or tick off) her readers.

C.A. currently resides in the Midwest, but was born and raised in the South. She spends her days working from home and her evenings are spent shuttling her kids to and fro. Her dinners are subpar, but she makes a mean dessert.

When she’s tired of living her sons’ travel sports schedules, C.A. enjoys a glass (or four) of wine. She needs the liquid courage to click the publish button for her fantasy romance novels.

Her motto is, “Be Brave,” and she tries to live it every day. It takes a healthy dose of courage to get through this thing we call life.

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$50 Release Day Giveaway – Pathways by Camille Peters #CamillePeters @KathyHabel

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Pathways by Camille Peters

Eileen has never been interested in love. Ever since her father’s abandonment, she’s vowed to never experience such pain again. But the enchanted forest has different ideas. When the continuously shifting pathways lead her to a mysterious stranger, Eileen finds her promise to fiercely guard her heart increasingly difficult to keep.

One night when she becomes lost in a storm, the enchanted forest’s pathways lead her to the castle, home to the kingdom’s Dark Prince, where Eileen finds herself entangled in what many consider an opportunity but which Eileen believes to be a curse: competing for the Dark Prince’s hand through a series of tests that judge one’s royal worth. Eileen is neither royal nor interested in becoming a princess. But the mysterious stranger she met in the woods has his own reasons for helping her succeed, but the cost of his assistance may be too high: that of Eileen’s heart, the one thing she’s vowed never to give.

Inspired by “The Princess and the Pea”

Praise for the Book

“This was SUCH a cute book! The characters were very well developed…The supporting characters were just as endearing…as the main characters. The descriptions of surroundings were impeccable, I could just see the environment and feel the feelings that were invoked by them. The plot was really well thought out, the ideas were super creative, and I love the general fairy tale feel…I couldn’t put it down, I just fell in love with the characters and I can’t WAIT for the next one!”

“I ADORE the creativity in this book! The forest is so magical and has so many enchanting moments throughout the story. I loved being transported into a fairy tale theme as I read; it was a perfect escape into a sweet and charming era! I absolutely loved the direction the story went and I thoroughly enjoyed reading about the adventure Eileen stumbled upon. There are so many fun characters in the story, each with unique personalities! This is such a darling story about loyalty, romance, friendship and all with a fairytale feeling!”

“This is a delightful story of romance and adventure, centered near a magical forest that guides its travelers to discover not only its own enchantments, but also to find true love along the way. It is also a story of growth and overcoming one’s weaknesses, and of going forward despite one’s fears. Both of those things are inspirational to me, and I found myself relating to the characters and hoping for their success. An enjoyable journey to give hope to your heart!”

“I really enjoyed this story. The characters are fun and delightful and they were well developed. I liked that it was only loosely based on an existing fairy tale and branch out in interesting ways to create romance and drama. I get really bored with the same re-telling over and over and this was fresh and new.”

Excerpt A knock sounded on the door. I bit back a sigh, both of impatience and relief. “Come in.”  I gasped as the door swung open, for it wasn’t Alaina who stood there but—“Aiden?”  He beamed, his eyes lighting up as they settled on my face. Warmth seeped over me to see him again after all these weeks, and my heart performed several cartwheels as he stared at me, his expression tender.  “Aiden!” I fell into his arms, burrowing myself against him.  He nestled against my hair. “It’s wonderful to see you. I admit I thought it’d be much longer before our paths crossed again, and I’m pleased that’s not the case.”  I tipped my head back to gape up at him. “Wait, what are you doing here?”  “An excellent question; one I was about to ask you. May I come in?”  I slowly nodded. He shut the door behind him, his eyes never once leaving my face. The shock of seeing him at the palace of all places slowly subsided and I tentatively smiled. “I can’t believe you’re here. I never thought I’d see you again.”  He returned my smile with a lopsided one of his own and my insides fluttered. “I promised we’d see each other again. How are you?”  I sighed. “I’m in a bit of a predicament.”  He raised an eyebrow. “Indeed. So you’re a secret princess keen on trying to persuade the prince to marry you?”  I pulled a face. “No, this is all some horrible misunderstanding.”  “Is it?” He folded his arms and leaned against my bedpost. “And how did a common girl end up in such a plight?”  I narrowed my eyes at him. A secret danced within his dark eyes, taunting me. “You don’t happen to know the answer, do you?”  He chuckled, and the warm sound I’d fiercely missed washed over me. “I do, actually.” His smile widened. “I’ve really missed you, Eileen. I’m so glad you’re here.”  “Why am I here?” I pressed my hands on my hips and glared at him, demanding he answer me.  He straightened and came over until he stood directly in front of me, enveloping me in his warmth and causing the strange sensations that only came from him to fill my heart. “It so happened I witnessed your unexpected arrival last night.”  “What are you even doing here?”  “Isn’t it obvious? I’m a member of the court.”  My brow furrowed. “I don’t understand. How does your being a member of the court explain why I now find myself trapped here?”  “Because thanks to my position, it wasn’t difficult to convince the guards that you’re one of the princesses come here to woo the prince.” He winked.  I gaped at him, my heart pounding furiously. With each beat my insides burned, my anger searing and poisonous. “You told them what?”  He frowned. “I told the guards that you’re a princess.”  “You mean to tell me,” I hissed through gritted teeth, “that it’s your fault I’m tangled in this dangerous mess?”  Perplexity twisted his expression. “Mess? It’s an opportunity.”  “An opportunity for what, exactly? To be executed?”  He rolled his eyes. “Why so dramatic?”  My fists tightened. “If I’m caught posing as a royal, what do you think will happen? You think the royal family will merely have a good laugh before releasing me? No, they’ll send me to the gallows.” My blood chilled. I needed to escape. I stomped to the door, but Aiden blocked my exit. 

Author Camille Peters

Camille Peters was born and raised in Salt Lake City, Utah where she grew up surrounded by books. As a child, she spent every spare moment reading and writing her own stories on every scrap of paper she could find. Becoming an author was always more than a childhood dream; it was a certainty.
Her love of writing grew alongside her as she took local writing classes in her teens, spent a year studying Creative Writing at the English University of Northampton, and graduated from the University of Utah with a degree in English and History. She’s now blessed to be a full-time author.
When she’s not writing she’s thinking about writing, and when’s she’s not thinking about writing she’s…alright, she’s always thinking about writing, but she can also be found reading, playing board games with her family and friends, or taking long, bare-foot walks as she lives inside her imagination and brainstorms more tales.

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Giveaway Details

$50 Amazon Gift Card or Paypal Cash

Ends 2/28/19

Open only to those who can legally enter, receive and use an Amazon.com Gift Code or Paypal Cash. Winning Entry will be verified prior to prize being awarded. No purchase necessary. You must be 18 or older to enter or have your parent enter for you. The winner will be chosen by rafflecopter and announced here as well as emailed and will have 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen. This giveaway is in no way associated with Facebook, Twitter, Rafflecopter or any other entity unless otherwise specified. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning. This giveaway was organized by Kathy from Clean Wholesome Romance and is sponsored by the author. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW.

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Giveaway – Shadows of Atlantis by Mara Powers @ShadowsAtlantis @SDSXXTours

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Shadows of Atlantis: Awakening by Mara Powers Genre: Fantasy

Shadows of Atlantis: Awakening by Mara Powers Genre: Fantasy

“…had me turning the pages obsessively from the very beginning.” Readers Favorite.
Enter the legacy of the legend… Brigitte has been chosen to renew the treaty between Atlantis and the ancient bloodline of Lemuria. As an emissary of nature, her betrothal would ensure the continued function of the Crystal Grid, the life source of the ten kingdoms of Atlantis. But as Brigitte prepares to leave from her home in the magical Dreamvale, her people are attacked by a storm of shadows. Now she is running for her life.
Upon her arrival in the ruling city of Atlantis, she meets D’Vinid, a dejected musician who lives the quintessential Atlantean lifestyle of revelry, escapism and apathy. Under the eclipse of a sacred festival, they are swept into an attraction they cannot resist. Their union may protect humanity from its worst enemy – the shadows of Atlantis. But there is one problem, this man is not her betrothed.
Brigitte soon discovers that the corruption of the Grid could very well be the Grid itself. Citizens have neglected to attend the rituals required to charge the crystals with their psychic emanations. Some have fallen prey to an epidemic called “the madness”, caused by shadowy parasites that feed off human suffering. But as nature always strives toward balance, the crystals have activated a genetic upgrade among the people. The youth have begun to express supernatural powers. Could it be that D’Vinid and Brigitte are meant to be leaders among the awakened? And if so, why does it seem impossible for them to be together?
A mysterious tale of romance, seduction and betrayal that reaches just enough into the modern mind to ask – will we learn the lessons of Atlantis?
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Leaving the Dreamvale would mean Brigitte would gradually forget growing up on the rocky shores of the mystical islands. She stood in her favorite place high above the dreamclan village watching the ocean dance with the cliffs. It would be her last chance to behold the glory of sunset before boarding the galleon bobbing in the cove below. Evenings were always a masterpiece of color, the best time to behold the splendor of nature’s art. Clouds of rainbow prisms had the look of creatures billowing in the sky. But in the distance, a wall of storm opened like the jaws of a predator, drifting ever closer to the peaceful, green island. “Brigitte.” A male voice echoed through her contemplation. She felt a pang of disappointment. Leaving would mean the beginning of a journey she had feared all her life. With one last lingering view of the panorama, she held her breath, reached out her arms and leapt from the cliff. As a mass of dancing particles, she bounced down the ragged rocks toward the village, one with the wind. Taking her time would be rude, so she kept moving until she filled the inside of her room. Her brother Lukias was a dreamseer, finely tuned to the invisible. As usual, his hair was a shock of chaos that pointed in every direction. The amber of his eyes sparkled with gold flecks as he stood over her body with arms crossed. He looked right at her dream form. “The council has called us,” he said with a hint of impatience. Brigitte sank back into her body and opened her eyes. “I warned you not to dreamwalk too much.” He turned his back as she reached for her travel clothes. “You could separate from your body and forget how to return. Especially here in the Dreamvale.” “It hardly matters anymore.” She watched the sun’s rays shoot dusty light through holes in the walls. She thought about the pattern it made every day at this time, the royal symbol of Atlantis. “In Atlantis we will be bound to our bodies.” Lukias reached out a caring hand and patted her shoulder. “There will be ways to dreamwalk in the realms of matter. It will just be more… challenging.” She smirked, knowing he always loved a challenge. He could always find humor even in the grimmest of circumstances. They exchanged a few moments of unfolding memories until, with the final boot in place, she stamped her feet and started for the door. “You coming?” Together they walked to the center of the village where the council was gathered in a semi-circle facing a woman. She wore the leather of seafarers, her face shaded by a wide-brimmed hat. With one hip thrust to the side, her demeanor was unruffled with a twist of amusement. Their father Denikon raised his booming voice for all to hear. “Captain Ofira Pazit of the Dreamship Vex Voyager, I give you my daughter Brigitte, emissary to Atlantis. She is the first true Moirae born into our dreamclan for seven generations.” The captain wrinkled her chin. “Impressive. Embodied Watchers are rare, even among dreamclans.” Her chameleon eyes shifted in the fading light. “If you are ready, I think it wise that we set sail before that shadow storm arrives, don’t you?” Her eyes slid toward the horizon. “This storm has struck more than one dreamclan. All of them were to send emissaries for the renewal of the Telluric Treaty. None of them have been heard from.” She turned back to the council. “Are you certain you want to risk staying? It would be a tight fit, but we can evacuate the rest of you.” Brigitte glanced at the grim face of her tutor Indrius. The mysterious Atlantean woman had always been a curiosity to the clan. Though she had spent many years among them, she was never one of them. She was riddled with tragedy from a past she never spoke of, a past born in Atlantis. Denikon answered, “Those who remain have chosen to face the shadows.” His voice was steadfast though regret lingered in his eyes. He exchanged a nod with Indrius. “I am sending Lukias, my son and heir, to accompany his sister. If we fall, he will be the future of our clan. But trust me, we will not go down without a fight.” The council had argued for many moon cycles, trying to decide the fate of their people. It was important for Brigitte to escape. Her path was evident. The first ships had already departed, taking women and children to places of refuge. The rest stayed, devising a strategy. Though they were hopeful, they worked with the solemnity of people who faced their demise. She squinted at Lukias as he and Indrius said their goodbyes. Theirs was always a close relationship. But everyone liked Lukias. Her time spent with Indrius was always strained at best. She offered him a gift. The sun flashed off a crystal dangling from a silver chain. Brigitte could feel the telluric consciousness radiating from the multi-faceted quartz. It pulsed with a longing that made her fidget. After a whispered message to Lukias, the white-haired woman turned to look at Brigitte. Her green eyes were gray with emotion. She brushed Brigitte’s cheek with her fingertips. “You know your task,” she began. “Remember your Watcher powers. It has become exceedingly difficult to travel between realms on this planet. I fear this shadow storm will make it even more difficult. Atlantis is suffering from a disease. It will try and take you, too. Do not be attached to your human wishes and emotions. For humans, attachment can turn to weakness and suffering. This only serves to feed the shadows. Your path will not be easy.” “I will do what it takes to find a cause and a cure for Atlantis. I will be mindful of your warnings.” “Therein lies the trick. As you descend deeper into the Meridian Realm, you will forget my warnings. Take steps to hold them in your heart.” She lingered in Brigitte’s eyes for a few awkward moments. “I have prepared you as best I could, my child. I regret how I’ve treated you.” She faced Brigitte and held her shoulders. “Know that I loved you like my own daughter. My treatment toward you was an attempt to prepare you for the task you face. Atlantis will not be kind to you.” “I understand, Indrius. You had no choice.” Brigitte wanted to cry. But her tears had long since dried up.


Mara Powers is a rebel of the written word who has tackled the monumental task of recreating Atlantis. When she was 16 in Fort Collins, Colorado, she began visiting the library in search of things she couldn’t learn in school. Her goal was to re-define her religion. She studied theology voraciously until she discovered the concept of reincarnation though Hinduism. It was the answer to a lifelong existential crisis that had plagued her for many sleepless nights. The study of reincarnation led her to the channel Edgar Cayce. In his many books, she found his past life readings of lifetimes spent in Atlantis. This was the beginning of a lifelong quest to unravel the secrets of this mystery. She has spent upwards of 30 years exploring the labyrinth of ancient civilizations. Her decision to turn it all into a high concept, visionary fantasy series stems from her study of the esoteric depiction of Atlantis. With the other half of her research rooted in the secular, it was the best way to illustrate both aspects of this fascinating legend. Her work is the legacy of the legend.
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Giveaway – Shadow’s Voice by Natalie Johanson @XpressoTours #NatalieJohanson

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Shadow’s Voice
Natalie Johanson
Publication date: January 2nd 2019
Genres: Adult, Fantasy

Rose Trewin is on the run. Pursued by memories of her father, she runs from city to city, seeking normalcy. But Rose can’t escape her past, or the magic running through her veins, the magic that allows her to slip through the shadows unnoticed. The magic her father once used to mold her into a mercenary sent to destroy his enemies.

Now her magic is growing and changing, becoming something new and untamable. Rose is unable to rest. Wolves wrapped in fog follow her relentlessly along the countryside. Desperate, she uses her magic to escape, but the shadows are pushing her towards the center of a conspiracy.

Now, her country teeters on the brink of a civil war as a Lord Governor gathers power against the king. An enemy, with magic similar to her own, emerges in the chaos of political intrigue.
Faced with a country at war and a king brought to his knees, Rose must accept who she is and harness her powers in order to save her country and herself.

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EXCERPT:

Rose stretched her neck and sighed. the low setting sun was hot on her neck and sweat trickled down her back. She groaned and pushed away from the spinning wheel, dropping the bundle of wool back into the pile at her feet.

“Miss Trewin, you haven’t finished.”

She rolled her stiff shoulders and turned to the older, white haired woman. “No, ma’am. But the sun is setting and I’m hungry.” She dusted her lose skirts free from the wool fibers. “I’ll make it up tomorrow.”

The shopkeeper glowered at her but relented with a wave of her hand. “Fine then. Business has been slow anyway.”

“Thank you, Marg.”

Rose smiled softly and slipped past the gruff woman—the first to offer

Rose a job in this small town. She wasn’t a great seamstress or spinner, but she worked hard, and Marg wasn’t a cruel shop owner.

“Are you still staying at the inn?” Marg asked as she passed.

She tucked stray hair behind her ear. “Yes. It’s clean and not too expensive.”

Marg snorted softly at her. “You should look for a room somewhere else. There are plenty of people who would rent you a room. I even know of a small cottage or two near the woods.”

“Perhaps,” she said as she dusted off her skirts.

Rose looked up when her boss cackled at her. “You’ve been here nearly six weeks. Living in an inn can’t be enjoyable.”

“No, it is not but . . .” She trailed off. “Thank you again.”

Slipping outside, she wandered down the uneven cobblestone street toward the pub and inn. It was a small building, dingy and worn. The ceiling had a haze of smoke clinging to it, but it had decent food, mostly, and clean beds. It was a small town, smaller than she liked, but it seemed to suit her. The buildings were a ramshackle collection of stone and wood, many wedged next to each other as if the city grew too quickly.

Rose settled herself at a small table in the corner. “Dinner ma’am?”

She looked up at the tired barmaid and nodded. “Some ale as well, please.”

The barmaid quickly returned with a bowl of stew and a mug of ale. Rose sipped at the thin broth and poked at the chewy chunks of meat. She wrinkled her nose at it and pulled the mug of ale closer. Leaning back in her creaky chair, she watched the room.

Her view was interrupted by a man stopping in front of her table. “Yes?” Rose drawled and slowly dropped her hand closer to the dagger sheathed in her boot.

The thin man gestured to the empty chair across from her. “Might I join you for some conversation and a meal?”

She glanced at the stranger and looked him quickly up and down.

Worn and cracked boots, old but nice clothes, dirty face but clear eyes. Before she could shake her head no, he was dragging the chair around and sitting next to her, his back to the wall.

Rose raised an eyebrow at him as he settled in the chair and waved over the barmaid. “Yes, of course . . . help yourself,” she drawled and shifted so she could face him.

He snorted. “A horse makes for stale company after so long.” He turned to the woman. “Some stew and ale, please.”

She sipped her ale and watched him. “I’m Nico.”

“Rose.”

Nico gulped down half of his ale before stopping for air. “Have you lived here long?”

She clucked her tongue and finished off her ale. “Born and raised.” She stood from the rickety table. “Now, I must be off. Enjoy your stew.” Rose walked steadily and calmly toward the narrow stairway in the corner without looking back. She didn’t care for strangers and cared for questions even less, no matter where they came from. Let that traveler think she was born in this rotting little town and forget all about the strange girl he met in the tavern when he left.

Rose unlocked the door to her small room and slipped inside, locking it behind her. She walked to her narrow bed and pulled the dagger from each boot, dropping them onto the small table next to it. She slipped off the simple skirt of browns and reds and yanked off the constricting bodice. Rose climbed into bed, ignored the sounds of a tavern below her, and tried to sleep.

The night was restless, with the wind howling outside all night. Dreams of her father and life before made for a long night. When morning came, it was gray and cold. Rose looked at the sky from her small window and thought grimly how it fit her mood. She dressed quickly in more reds and browns before heading out of the inn for another day of tedious work. She liked the flashy bright colors of turquoise or green, but those stood out. She paused as she passed the small mirror hanging on the wall. Her hazel eyes and straight brown hair were simple. Too young to have wrinkles, but life didn’t care that she was barely in her second decade and there were small lines at the corners of her eyes. Rose loved bright colors when she was young. Now, reds and browns were her col- ors. They don’t stand out. She snorted at her reflection and left her room.

Rose pulled her long jacket closed against the wind. The walk from the inn to the shop was short but the wind was cold and hard. By the time she reached the shop door, she was half running. The bell dinged softly as Rose tried to smooth her hair back into place.

“Oh, hello dear.”

She gave up pulling her hair out of her face with a huff. “Nasty wind picking up, there better not be a storm coming.”

Marg snorted and turned the page in her ledger. “Oh, someone came looking for you after you left yesterday.”

She snapped her head up. “What?” Alarm made her insides twist. No one should be looking for her. No one should know to come here. Marg licked her thumb and turned another page. She spoke without bothering to look up, “Yes, tall man. Had quite a lot of black hair. He said he was an old friend of yours.”

Rose tried to swallow but her mouth had gone dry from fear. “What did you tell him?”

Marg finally looked up. “That you’d gone for the day.”

“Anything else?”

Marg frowned at her. “No, dear. What’s gotten into you?”

She rubbed her lips with her shaking fingers. “I need to run an errand. I’ll be back later. I’ll make up the missed work tonight.”

Marg frowned at her. “You only just got here, girl. What am I paying you for?”

“I’ll be back.” Rose turned on her heel and went back out into the wind. Her hair whipped around her face as she turned down the narrow alley between the drapery next door. Her light skirt wrapped around her legs in the wind. She took another turn and headed along the back of the buildings toward the inn.

“Morning, Flower.”

Rose jerked to a stop. She turned faced the speaker. “You know I hate that name.”

A tall man leaned against the wall, his dark hair hiding most of his face. She could never tell if it was to be sensual, to hide his face, or if he simply couldn’t control his messy locks.

“I thought I’d wait around for you.”

“Why are you here, Gavin? Have you finally found someone who will hire you?”

He leaned against the shop wall, trying to look relaxed, but Rose could see the strain in his neck and the clench of his jaw.

“I’m looking for better employ, if you must know. You, however, are a long way from home. Your father must be so worried.”

Rose pulled her hands out of her pockets and kept her arms lose at her sides. The wind pulled her hair from the loose braid and it whipped around her face. “I’m sure,” she drawled. “Is that what you’re going to do, Gavin? Rush back to him with news of my whereabouts, hope that lets you back into his fold? Do you think presenting me as a gift will get you work?”

He jerked away from the wall and grabbed her hard by the arm. “He’ll be mighty pleased to know your location. Might even pay me good coin for the information. And if he won’t, others will. You know they will.”

A quick, hard whirl freed her arm from Gavin’s grip. Before he could say more, she turned away. He shouted after her but she ignored him; keeping her back straight. She slipped in through the servant’s door near the stables and used their hallways to get up to her room. She locked the door behind her and let out a deep breath.

Her little room was barren: a small bed against one wall, a short rick- ety desk along the other. She had no decorations and her few personal items were still packed in her bag. If she were to leave, no one would remember she’d been here. Her spot at the small spinner shop would be easily filled.

Rose slumped onto her small bed. This was the farthest west she’d been, had even crossed the province borders into Amora and still her past found her. She’d been here too long already, and Gavin couldn’t be allowed to sell his news of her. She curled onto the bed, tucked the scratchy wool blanket around her, and set in to wait for the night.

Author Bio:

Natalie Johanson has been interested in writing and reading since she first held a pencil. What first began a short story for her own reading turned into a world with a story to tell the world. When her time isn’t being monopolized by her ferret, work as a police officer, running Dirty Dash races or reading she is writing.

Check out Natalie’s website, nataliejohanson.com, for news, updates and more.

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