Dec 21 2013

Insanity

Author: Bibliowhore • Discussion: No Comments

Publication date: December 20th 2013

Synopsis:
After accidentally killing everyone in her class, Alice Wonder is now a patient in the Radcliffe Lunatic Asylum. No one doubts her insanity. Only a hookah-smoking professor believes otherwise; that he can prove her sanity by decoding Lewis Carroll’s paintings, photographs, and find Wonderland’s real whereabouts. Professor Caterpillar persuades the asylum that Alice can save lives and catch the wonderland monsters now reincarnated in modern day criminals. In order to do so, Alice leads a double life: an Oxford university student by day, a mad girl in an asylum by night. The line between sanity and insanity thins when she meets Jack Diamond, an arrogant college student who believes that nonsense is an actual science.

Excerpt

The writing on the wall says it’s January 14^th. I am not sure what year. I haven’t been sure of many things lately, but I’m wondering if it’s my handwriting I’m looking at.

There is an strange key drawn underneath the date. It’s carved with a sharp object, probably a broken mirror. I couldn’t have written this. I’m terrified of mirrors. They love to call it Catoptrophobia around here.

Unlike regular patients in the asylum, my room is windowless, stripped down to a single mattress in the middle, a sink, and bucket for peeing–or puking–when necessary. The tiles on the floor are black-and-white squares, like a chessboard. I never step on black. Always white. Again, I’m not sure why.

The walls are smeared with a greasy pale green everywhere. I wonder if it’s the previous patient’s brains spattered all over from shock therapy. In the Radcliffe Lunatic Asylum, politely known as the Warneford hospital, the doctors have a sweet spot for shock therapy. They love watching patients with bulging eyes and shivering limbs begging for relief from the electricity. It makes me question who is really mad in here.

It’s been a while since I was sent to shock therapy myself. Dr. Tom Truckle, my supervising physician, said I don’t need it anymore, particularly after I stopped mentioning Wonderland. He told me that I used to talk about it all the time; a dangerous place I claim I have been whisked away to when my elder sister lost me at the age of seven.

Truth is, I don’t remember this Wonderland they are talking about. I don’t even know why I am here. My oldest vivid memory is from a week ago. Before that, it’s all a purple haze.

I have only one friend in this asylum. It’s not a doctor or a nurse. And it’s not a human. It doesn’t hate, envy, or point a finger at you. My friend is an orange flower I keep in a pot; a Tiger Lily I can’t live without. I keep it safe next to a small crack in the wall where a single sun ray sneaks through for only ten minutes a day. It might not be enough light to grow a flower, but my Tiger Lily is a tough girl.

Each day, I save half of the water they give me for my flower. As for me, better thirsty than mad.

My orange flower is also my personal rain check for my sanity. If I talk to her and she doesn’t reply, I know I am not hallucinating. If it talks back to me, all kinds of nonsense starts to happen. Insanity prevails. There must be a reason why I am here. It doesn’t mean I will easily give in to such a fate.

“Alice Pleasance Wonder. Are you ready?” the nurse knocks with her electric prod on my steel door. Her name is Waltraud Wagner. She is German. Everything she says sounds like a threat and smells like smoke. My fellow mad people say she is a Nazi; that she used to kill her own patients back in Germany. “Get avay vrom za dor. I an coming in,” she demands.

Listening to the rattling of her large keychain, my heart pounds in my chest. The turn of the key makes me want to swallow. When the door opens, all I can think of is choking her before she begins to hurt me. Sadly, her neck is too thick for my nimble hands. I stare at her almost-square figure for a moment. Everything about her is four sizes too big, all except her feet, which are as small as mine. My sympathies, little feet.

“Time for your daily ten-minute break,” she approaches me with a straitjacket, a devilish grin on her face. I never get out. My ward is underground, and I take my break in another empty ward upstairs, where patients love to play soccer with a hedgehog’s head.

A big muscled warden stands behind Watlraud. Thomas Ogier. He is bald, has an angry-red face and a silver tooth he likes to flash whenever he sees me. His biceps are the size of my head. I have a hard time believing he has ever been a 4-pound baby.

“Slide your arms into the jacket,” Waltraud demands in her German accent, a cigarette puckered between her lips. “Slow and easy, Alice,” she nods at warden Ogier, in case I misbehave.

I comply obediently and stretch out my arms for her to do whatever she wants. Waltraud twists my right arm slightly and checks the tattoo on my arm. It’s the only tattoo I have. It’s a handwritten sentence that looks like a thin arm band from afar. Waltraud feels the need to read it allowed, “’I can’t go back to yesterday because I was a different person then.’” I was told I have written it myself while still believing in Wonderland. “That Alice in Wonderland has really messed with your head.” She puffs smoke into my face as she mocks me.

The tattoo and Waltraud’s mocking is the least of my concerns right now. I let her tie me, and while she does, I close my eyes. I imagine I am a sixteenth century princess, some kind of a lucky Cinderella, being squeezed into a corset by my chain smoking servant in a fairy tale castle above ground, just about to go meet my Prince Charming. Such imagery always helps me breathe. I once heard that it was hope that saves the day, not sanity. I need to cool down before I begin my grand escape.

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About the Author
Wonderlander, Neverlander, Unicorn-chaser, enchanter, musician, survived a coma, & totally awesome. Sometimes I tell stories. Always luv the little monsters I write young adult paranormal romance, urban fantasy, and science fiction mostly. The Grimm Diaries series is a seven book saga that deals with retellings of fairy tales from a young adult POV – it connects most of the fairy tales together and claims to be the truth about fairy tales. I live in San Fransisco and seriously think circles are way cooler than triangles.

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Dec 20 2013

Sex. Love. Repeat.

Author: Bibliowhore • Discussion: 2 Comments

Publication date: December 1st 2013

Synopsis:

I love two men. I screw two men. I am in a relationship with them both, and they are both aware there is another. That is all they need to know, that is all I let them know. They don’t need to know a name; they don’t need to know anything but that they are not alone in my heart.

They have accepted the situation. Stewart, because his life is too busy for the sort of obligations that are required in a relationship. Paul, because he loves me too much to tell me no. And because my sexual appetite is such that one man has trouble keeping up.

So we exist, two parallel relationships, each running their own course, with no need for intersection or conflict. It works for us, for them, and for me. I don’t expect it to be a long-term situation. I know there is an expiration date on the easy perfection of our lives.

I should have paid more attention, should have looked around and noticed the woman who watched it all. She sat in the background and waited, tried to figure me out. Saw my two relationships, the love between us, and the moment that it all fell apart.

She hates me.
I don’t even know she exists.
She loves them. I love them.
And they love me.

EVERYTHING else hangs in the balance.

Excerpt

I grew up a charmed child of La Jolla. Nannies wiped my dirty ass, Christmas was spent in Aspen, and school uniforms shared closet space with miniature lines of Dior and Versace. I lived a privileged line between surfer chick and spoiled brat, sandy cheeks and wet bikinis chafing the leather seats of my ice blue BMW convertible. I smoked weed with friends in million dollar mansions with ocean views while our parents cruised the Black Sea. I fucked preppy boys who wore Lacoste and Rolexes and played lacrosse. I was in a bubble of ridiculousness, and grew up thinking that life never said no, credit cards were never declined, and happiness was a given.

Then my father, a hedge fund manager with a minor addiction to cocaine, drove off the manicured edge of a Malibu cliff, to the polished astonishment of a restaurant full of Orange County’s upper society. The fact that his mistress, a surgically enhanced blonde three years older than me, was in the front seat, was hid from no one, and embraced by many of my mom’s arch enemies. They both died, drowned or killed by the cliffs. I didn’t ask for particulars and none were offered up.

Perfection, in that moment, became flawed and fragile. I never took anything for granted again.

Our money lasted another ten months, ‘til the fat mortgage, civil lawsuits and attorneys took it all. I spent my senior year in the public high school, my BMW repossessed, my school uniforms left in the closet of a home that the bank quickly seized. I was unceremoniously dumped into normality, courtesy of a mother fighting her own depression. If I had still had a cell phone at that moment in time, I can assure you that my lifelong ‘friends’ would not have answered my call.

Looking back, I see the turning point that occurred at that moment in time. I miss my father, despite his shortcomings and mistakes. I loved him, I have pieces of him throughout my personality. But the person that I was becoming? The type of individual that easy wealth and never-told-no parenting breeds? I was a bitch. A self-assured, my-way-or-the-highway, bitch. I didn’t appreciate what I had and demanded more at every turn. I am grateful that I got kicked in the ass. That I had a taste of reality before I traveled too far and that persona became permanent.

That happened to my mother. She was raised in those twenty-thousand square foot mansions, she was given everything she ever wanted, right up until the moment that it all disappeared. She drowned herself in top-shelf martinis we couldn’t afford, refusing to cook, clean, or pay bills – her breeding too great for such blue-collar work. I became the adult, she became the child, and we sank further and further in life until I moved out and she found a man. Now she is the wife and full-time dependent of Maurice Fulton, an old man who she can’t possibly love, one who keeps her groomed and outfitted in his big house and keeps her glass filled. I speak to her occasionally, when I get the sadistic urge to see what an society-bred alcoholic sounds like.

Family is one thing I have in common with my men. We are all loners, floating through life unattached, except to each other. We don’t talk about our pasts, our lack of familial ties. There is no point in dwelling on the darkness. Not when our new life is full of such life.

About the Author

Alessandra Torre is a new author who focuses on contemporary erotica. Her first book, Blindfolded Innocence, was published in July 2012, and was an Erotica #1 Bestseller for two weeks. The sequel to Blindfolded, Masked Innocence, will be released in February 2014.Alessandra lives in the Southern United States and is married, with one young child. She enjoys reading, spending time with her family, and playing with her dogs. Her favorite authors include Lisa Gardner, Gillian Flynn, and Jennifer Crusie.

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Dec 19 2013

Sempre: Redemption (Forever Series #2)

Author: Bibliowhore • Discussion: No Comments

Synopsis:

In this thrilling and sexy follow-up to Sempre, two young lovers struggle to keep their relationship intact after they become deeply enmeshed in the dangerous mafia-run crime ring they once tried to overthrow.

Haven Antonelli and Carmine DeMarco have been through a lot. Haven was taken in by Carmine’s father, and with his family’s help, she escaped a gruesome fate. However, saving Haven from the dark intentions of a mafia family cost Carmine a steep price: he was forced to swear loyalty to them.

Now, still passionately in love, Carmine and Haven must face the fall-out of Carmine’s forced service, as Haven discovers terrifying secrets about the family that enslaved both her and her mother—and why she matters so much in this intricate web of lies.

EXCERPT

Carefully, so not to wake Haven, he slipped from underneath her and climbed out of bed. He tiptoed across the room to the window and pulled some slats of the blinds apart to look out into the night. It was nearing three in the morning, the sky pitch black and the city quiet. Carmine surveyed the street, looking for any sign of trouble, and tensed when his eyes fell upon a car out front.

A vaguely familiar looking dark Chevy Camaro.

He stepped back from the window and gave Haven a quick glance before heading out of the room. Instinct took over, every move calm and calculating. He found his pants and pulled them on before grabbing his gun downstairs. He made sure it was loaded as he quietly slipped out the back door. He headed around the house and came up behind the Camaro, eyeing the license plate.

The moment he saw the letters JK, his adrenaline kicked into overdrive.

Staying in the shadows, he watched the car for a bit. The man was alone with the driver’s side window down, his attention focused away from Carmine’s house. Every time headlights flashed nearby he would watch them like a hawk until they passed. He was waiting for something, but Carmine wasn’t sure what until a set of headlights shined their way. The man ducked as a black Mercedes sped by them before swinging into a driveway about a block away.

Corrado.

Carmine wasn’t sure what to do, torn between reacting and alerting Corrado, but he didn’t get much time to consider his options. The driver’s side door swung open and the guy climbed out, keeping his head down as he started down the block. Without even thinking Carmine followed him, dodging streetlights while trying to keep up with his pace. The man slowed when he neared Corrado’s house, staring at it peculiarly like he was trying to assess how to get inside. The living room light was on and Carmine could see shadows, Celia’s laughter faintly filtering out of a cracked window.

The man ducked beside Corrado’s house and Carmine hesitated, taking a deep breath and clutching his gun before darting behind him. The invader had almost made it to their backyard when he heard Carmine’s footsteps. He swung around, alarmed by the presence, but it was already too late.

Carmine slammed him into the side of the house, shoving his gun against his temple. “If you move, I’ll blow your fucking head off.”

He cursed and shook as Carmine patted him down, frantically pulling everything out of the guy’s pockets. He found a gun in his coat and made sure the safety was on before sticking it in his waistband.

Grabbing the man’s wallet, Carmine flipped it open and yanked out his driver’s license. “Oisin Quinn. What kinda name is that?”

“Don’t hurt me,” he begged. “I’m not looking for trouble!”

“Bullshit,” Carmine spat. “You don’t lurk around this neighborhood with a gun if you aren’t looking for trouble.”

“I swear it’s a mistake!”

“What is?”

“This!”

“What the fuck is this?” Carmine asked, pulling him away from the house and shoving him into the backyard. He stumbled but caught himself before he fell, and hesitated for a second before he took off sprinting through the yard.

For a brief moment, Carmine remained frozen in utter disbelief. He had just let go of the guy. How fucking stupid could he be?

Adrenaline kicked in again. Carmine aimed with his finger on the trigger, a hair away from pulling it, but lowered the gun and took off after him instead. Carmine managed to catch him, tackling him in the grass at the edge of the yard. Panicked, the man swung, trying to fight Carmine off, and his fist connected with the right side of his jaw. Pain ripped through his cheek, sending him over the edge.

If he wanted a fight, Carmine was going to give him one.

He pulled his arm back that clutched the gun, slamming him straight in the face with it. A lifetime worth of aggression came pounding from his fists, disappointment and anger, shame and heartbreak. Carmine didn’t know the man, but that mattered not—he took his pain out on him, battering him with pent up hostility he needed to let go of.

After he was beat down, Carmine pulled him across the yard and forced him on his knees right outside Corrado’s back door.

“Stay there, motherfucker,” he spat, giving him a swift kick in the side out of frustration. His jaw ached and he was out of breath, blood splattered on his hands.

“I’m certainly glad you decided not to shoot him.”

The voice caught Carmine off guard. He looked up, seeing Corrado standing motionless at the back door, watching them. “Fuck, how long have you been there?”

“Long enough.”

“And you couldn’t help me?” he spat, annoyed he had just watched.

“You seemed to have it handled,” he said. “Besides, it was quite entertaining.”

Carmine glared at him. “Entertaining? There’s nothing entertaining about this!”

“I disagree.”

“Well, you’re wrong,” Carmine said, reaching into his waistband for the guy’s gun. He cursed yet again when he came up empty-handed and glanced around, realizing it had fallen out during their scuffle. He found it a few feet away and picked it up, handing it to Corrado when he stepped outside. “He could’ve killed me.”

Corrado laughed dryly. “You’re exaggerating. You had him, no problem.”

“You couldn’t have fucking known that.”

“Yes, I could. He didn’t do his homework if he parked in front of your house.”

“How do you . . . ?” Carmine stopped, narrowing his eyes when it struck him. “Wait, you knew he was there?”

“Of course I did,” he replied. “He wasn’t sly, Carmine. Even you noticed him.”

“Son of a bitch,” he grumbled, aggravated. “I did all of that for nothing?”

“I wouldn’t say it was for nothing,” Corrado replied, smiling with amusement. “Like I said, it was entertaining.”

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About the Author:

JM Darhower is the author of countless stories and poems, most of which only she has ever read. She lives in a tiny town in rural North Carolina, where she churns out more words than will ever see the light of day. She has a deep passion for politics and speaking out against human trafficking, and when she isn’t writing (or fangirling about books) she’s usually ranting about those things.

Chronic crimper with a vulgar mouth, she admits to having a Twitter addiction. You can usually always find her there.

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Dec 17 2013

Pieces for You (For You #2) Release Day Romp

Author: Bibliowhore • Discussion: 1 Comment

Publication Date: December 17, 2013
Cover Designed By: G. Relyea Designs
Event organized by: Literati Author Services, Inc.

~ Synopsis ~

“The phoenix hope, can wing her way through the desert skies, and still defying fortune’s spite; revive from ashes and rise.” -Miguel de Cervantes

Samantha Whitney survived unimaginable tragedy only to discover she had been betrayed by a man who claimed to love her. Shattered, Sam spends months at a safe haven trying to piece herself back together. Ready or not, the time has come for her to return home.

As Sam struggles to resume a life that no longer feels familiar, she finds unwavering support in an unexpected, familiar face. Confronting Sam’s raw emotions and open wounds head-on, Griffin manages to take two steps forward for every step she retreats.

But when Sam is once again threatened, Griffin must decide how far he is willing to go to protect the woman he wants…knowing the cost of her safety is the risk of losing her.

Pieces For You is a captivating journey of survival, healing, and sacrifice—teeming with honesty, humor, unexpected twists, and love’s unsurpassed endurance.begin to plague Sam, it is Griffin she is forced to turn to.

Though Pieces For You is a part of the For You Series, the book can be read as a stand alone

EXCERPT

I was waiting for Griff to exit the men’s locker room when a gym rat approached me from behind, nearly causing me to wet my pants when I discovered his body within inches of mine. He leaned against the wall next to me with his arm resting above my head. I felt caged and uneasy.

“Hey sexy, haven’t seen you here before. Need me to show you how it’s done? I know the manager—I can hook you up with a free month…in exchange for dinner?”

I was about to—I didn’t know what—run, scream, panic, tell him I wasn’t interested in his ‘free month’ if he was the last man on earth. Then I heard it—a growl. A deep menacing growl was coming from behind me, about a foot and a half above my head. I slapped my hand over my mouth to stifle my snicker.

I couldn’t see Griffin and he didn’t say a word, but whatever his body language communicated, the dumbass in front of me clearly got the message because he turned tail and left, practically running.

I spun, hoping to catch a glimpse of ‘scary Griffin,’ but his face was devoid of all emotions, his eyes tracking my visitor’s departure.

“Excuse me,” I said to capture his attention. “Did I just hear you growl at that moron, or am I hallucinating now, too?”

“I didn’t growl, it was a deep exhale.”

“Oh, an audible exhale that reverberated in your chest…like a growl,” I said before dissolving into giggles.

“I love that sound—you laughing.”

“Should I start calling you ‘Tony the Tiger’ now? Wait…how about ‘Harry the Hippo’?”

“Hippos do not growl.”

“They absolutely do! I took a zoology class for my science requirement sophomore year, and hippopotamuses, my growly friend, most definitely growl.”

“If I growled—and I admit nothing—but if I did, it was not a damn hippopotamus growl. It was a tiger growl…no, a bear…I want to be a bear.”

“Alright, Yogi it is. Come on, my furry friend, you promised me dinner.”

“Despite your torment, I do keep my promises. Let’s go.”

“Do you have the picnic baskets in the car?” I teased, enjoying watching him squirm.

“No picnic baskets, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, is Boo-Boo bringing them?”

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~ About the Author ~

Genna Rulon is an up and coming contemporary romance author.

During her 15 years in the corporate world, Genna, inspired by her love of reading, fantasized about penning her own stories. Encouraged by her favorite authors, many of whom are indie writers and self-published, she committed to pursuing her aspirations of writing her own novels. Genna was raised in Long Island, New York, where she still resides, surrounded by the most amazing family and friends. Married to a wonderful man, who patiently tolerates her ramblings about whichever book she is currently working on, even feigning interest relatively convincingly! Genna is blessed with two little boys who do their best to thwart mommy’s writing time with their hilarious antics and charming extrapolations.

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Dec 16 2013

Positively Mine (Freshman Forty #1) Blitz

Author: Bibliowhore • Discussion: No Comments

Published by: Bloomsbury Spark
Publication date: December 19th, 2013

Synopsis:
It is four weeks into her freshman year of college, and Laurel’s first test was unexpected. Discovering she’s pregnant isn’t exactly what she had planned for her first semester, and while she intends to tell her emotionally-distant father, being away at school makes it all too easy to hide.

An imperfect heroine plagued by bad choices and isolated during what should be the best time of her life, readers are sure to identify with Laurel as she confronts teen pregnancy, in secret.

EXCERPT

Once inside, we start where we left off, shirts and jeans shed fast. Then we’re on my bed, and he’s kissing me everywhere, reaching his hand down to just the right spot. Jeez.

I shift and lean forward, trying to grab for his boxers. Mike moves too, so now his face meets mine, and breathless, he asks, “Do you want to?”

My heart is pounding. But when I look into his eyes, warm with anticipation, reality hits like a cold hard smack in the face. I’m pregnant with another person’s baby! I am horrible. Horrible. I push him away. I can’t hold the tears in.

Mike’s face switches from eager to alarmed. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

He keeps talking while the tears stream down my face, my lips squeezed together, trying to figure out how I’m going to explain. “What is it? Are we moving too fast? Talk to me.”

I can’t look at him, so I just stare out the window and blurt it out, “I’m pregnant.”

Mike sits up. “You’re what?”

I swallow hard. “I’m pregnant.”

“Pregnant?”

“Nine weeks.”

“With whose baby?”

“He doesn’t go here.”

“Wow!” Now it’s Mike’s turn to stare out the window. “So you’ve gotten together with me twice all the while knowing you were pregnant with someone else’s kid? That’s bad, Laurel!”

I want to disappear. “I know.” I get up from the bed and pull on my clothes, waiting for him to say something. He just lies there. Too long.

When he finally speaks, the coolness in his tone is alarming. “What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t. I don’t know. I like being with you.”

“Sounds like you liked being with the baby’s father, too,” he snaps.

I deserve that. “I’m sorry, Mike. I’ve been…”

“What?” he barks, anger clearly on his face now.

I’m feeling the tears coming again and try my hardest to swallow them. “I’ve been confused.”

He is up now and getting dressed. “Confused? What does that even mean?”

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About the Author
Christine Duval is an author and freelance writer who lives in New Jersey with her guitar-playing husband and two children. She is a member of the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators, New Jersey’s Women Who Write, and the Authors Guild. When not creating fictional characters, she writes for an upscale real estate company and has overseen online content and social media for several well-known magazines.

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Dec 15 2013

REVIVING IZABEL (In The Company of Killers #2) Release Event

Author: Bibliowhore • Discussion: No Comments

REVIVING IZABEL (In The Company of Killers #2)

By Bestselling Author J.A. Redmerski

An Adult Suspense

Killing Sarai (In the Company of Killers, #1) is on sale for .99 cents for the release of Reviving Izabel!

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SYNOPSIS

Determined to live a dark life in the company of the assassin who freed her from bondage, Sarai sets out on her own to settle a score with an evil sadist. Unskilled and untrained in the art of killing, the events that unfold leave her hanging precariously on the edge of death when nothing goes as planned.

Sarai’s reckless choices send her on a path she knows she can never turn back from and so she presents Victor with an ultimatum: help her become more like him and give her a fighting chance, or she’ll do it alone no matter the consequences. Knowing that Sarai cannot become what she wants to be overnight, Victor begins to train her and inevitably their complicated relationship heats up.

As Arthur Hamburg’s right-hand man, Willem Stephens, closes in on his crusade to destroy Sarai, she is left with the crushing realization that she may have bitten off more than she can chew. But Sarai, taking on the new and improved role of Izabel Seyfried, still has a set of deadly skills of her own that will prove to be all she needs to secure her place beside Victor.

But there is one test that Izabel must face that has the potential to destroy everything she is working so hard to achieve. One final test that will not only make her question her decision to want this dangerous life, but will make her question everything she has come to trust about Victor Faust.

Check out my review of Killing Sarai & Reviving Izabel

Excerpt

Victor’s car stops at the mouth of the alley, the brakes squealing to a halt on the street. He gets out leaving the door open and rushes toward us.

“I’ve got it under control,” I say and I look down at Andre next to my feet.

I’ve knocked him out, but not for long because he begins to stir awake when Victor grabs him by the backs of his arms and pulls him to his feet.

“You were supposed to lead him to the parking lot,” Victor snaps.

Andre begins to struggle as Victor drags him toward the car.

“I said I had it under control,” I snap back. “You see I’m not the one that ended up on the ground.”

“What the fuck’s going on?” Andre calls out, trying to fight his way out of Victor’s arms.

Victor shoves him in the backseat, face-down, and plants his knee in his back as he secures his hands behind him with a plastic zip tie.

“Get in,” Victor demands.

I do as he says, rushing around to the passenger’s side and shutting the door.

“Who the fuck are you?! What’s going on? Answer me!”

Andre’s voice is vociferous behind me, filling the small space in the car.

Victor turns around against the seat, leans over it at the stomach and punches Andre so hard he knocks him out cold.

“Thanks,” I say as Victor sits back down and puts the car in Drive. “I was about to go deaf.”

“I didn’t hit him for shouting,” Victor says without looking at me.

I glance over at him as he carefully weaves the car down the thin streets lined with tightly packed cars on either side.

“I hit him because he put his hands on you,” he says.

I turn my face toward the side window, hiding my smile from him.

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About the Author

Born November 25, 1975, J.A. (Jessica Ann) Redmerski is a New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author. She lives in North Little Rock, Arkansas with her three children and a Maltese. She is a lover of television and books that push boundaries and is a huge fan of AMC’s The Walking Dead.

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Dec 14 2013

Two Tickets to Paradise

Author: Bibliowhore • Discussion: No Comments

Synopsis

When Eve finds out two weeks before Christmas that the love of her life has been cheating, she’s left with a ticket to paradise. Defying common sense and hoping for a Christmas miracle, she gives the ticket to a man she doesn’t know.

Nick meets a beautiful woman at a coffee shop, who offers him a vacation, all expenses paid. He wonders if she’s crazy, but takes her up on the offer.

In paradise, they realize that together they make magic.

But will the secret Nick keeps tear them apart forever?

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About the Author

Scarlett Jade is just a small town girl with big dreams who loves to write. She has always been found from a young age with her brow furrowed, scribbling words on paper or her nose in a book. Now that she is grown, life isn’t much different, she still scribbles words, but mostly on the computer, and her nose is permanently glued to e-books! She is married to the man of her dreams, her real life knight in shining armor and Prince Charming and has one son who is the apple of her eye. You can typically find her playing in the dirt with her son, toying with her indoor vegetable garden, or snuggled on the couch with her dog Peanut Butter and cat Jelly, reading a good book. She loves chocolate, thinks coffee should be a religion, and loves to make people laugh with her quirky sense of humor. She is bold, brazen, and even been told she’s ballsy, but she doesn’t mind, she takes it in stride. She has a huge passion for all things paranormal and spicy love stories that leave you turning the pages and dying to slide between the sheets of the next book!

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Dec 12 2013

STORM WARNING (Broken Heartland, #1) Release Day Launch

Author: Bibliowhore • Discussion: No Comments

C. Quinn and E. Lee’s amazing new novel in their Broken Heartland Series, STORM WARNING, is out today and we are excited to join in the release day launch for it. STORM WARNING is a thrilling Young Adult Contemporary you are not going to want to miss! Check out what we have for you today and then enter to win in the release day launch giveaway! There’s also a fantastic excerpt for you. But be aware! The Storm Is Coming…

ABOUT STORM WARNING (Broken Heartland Series, #1):

Sometimes you don’t see the storm coming until it’s too late…

Severe Storm Warning Tip #1:
Be alert to changing weather conditions. Look for approaching storms.

Severe Storm Warning Tip #2:
If you see approaching storms or any of the danger signs, be prepared to take shelter immediately.

Severe Storm Warning Tip #3:
They may strike quickly, with little or no warning.

Situated just outside of Oklahoma City, Calumet County is divided into two drastically different communities: Hope’s Grove and Summit Bluffs. One is the small backward town where dirt roads lead the way to field parties and railroad tracks. And the other, a sprawling suburb where paved drives lead to the landscaped lawns of the wealthy and privileged.

For five teenagers smack in the middle of Tornado Alley, summer is heating up fast. The winds of change are blurring the invisible line that divides the rich and the rural.

One has a secret.
One has a crush.
One has been lying.
One will get caught.
And one might not make it out alive.

They’re from two different worlds…but one summer is about to change everything.

EXCERPT:

Hope’s Grove was small. Everyone knew about her parents, and she was already dreading
facing them since the news of her dad’s affair had hit. But facing them without
her brother and her best friend would be her worst nightmare.

After the girls had said their goodbyes and she’d watched her friend’s taillights
fade down the drive, Ella Jane scuffed her boots along the winding dirt road
that led her home.

She was about halfway there, watching the sun sink low in the evening sky, when the
unmistakable rumble of a pickup truck came barreling down the road behind her.
She stepped aside to let it pass without looking back. But it didn’t pass. It
slowed practically to a stop right next her.

She turned, wondering what the heck the driver’s deal was. There was more than
enough room for him to go around. But the smiling face beneath the backwards
trucker hat sent the words on the tip of her tongue swirling away with the dust
the truck had riled up.

She bit her lip and grinned. Warm brown eyes gleamed in her direction. “Hey there,
Ellie May. Need a ride?”

She rolled her eyes. Why Brantley Cooper couldn’t call her by her actual name was
beyond her. But as long as he was talking to her, she really didn’t care much
what he called her. He can call me ‘flower’ if he wants to.

He was a year older than her and a year younger
than her older brother, Kyle. Smack in the middle of their ages and grades in
school and usually smack in the middle of their arguments. Coop kept the peace.
Balanced them out perfectly.

The three of them had met at the same time as kids
but Coop and Kyle had become like brothers instantly. She’d always tagged along
wherever they went. Kyle had whined about it when they were younger but Coop
always made her feel welcome. He held doors open for her so she didn’t get left
behind, made sure to invite her despite her brother’s protests, and lately he’d
even stopped by and hung out even when Kyle wasn’t home. And this year, she’d
be a junior and Coop would be a senior. With her big brother away at college,
she couldn’t help but fantasize about what might happen if she and Coop spent
time together alone.

“Hey, Coop. Lynlee just left so I was just…” She glanced toward home. Kyle wasn’t
back from football camp yet, and her mom was baking herself to death, trying to
keep her mind off of everything.
“Yeah, I heard the Wicked Witch was moving west. You up for some fishing? I have to drop my bike off at the house but we could swing by the lake after.”
She should get home. She knew she should. Should order a pizza and convince her mom to take it easy for a night. Except…it was Coop. And in all her sixteen years, he was the one boy she’d never been able to say no to.
“Yeah. Yeah I’m up for it.”

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Trailer:

About C. Quinn and E. Lee:

Whether you believe in destiny, divine intervention, or just plain ol’ dumb luck, several things happened in 2013 that caused E. Lee and C. Quinn’s paths to cross. It may have been that the stars aligned perfectly, or the fact anytime Luke Bryan was mentioned on a social media site both of them were tagged, or maybe it was just that their small town roots and country girl attitudes were magnetically drawn together—calling out to one another, “Y’all should write a book!” Despite geography keeping them apart—Lee in Illinois and Quinn in Alabama—they did. Thanks to three-hour phone calls, ridiculous amounts of online chats, and umpteen Google Docs—Storm Warning is the first book in their edgy new Young Adult series, Broken Heartland.

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Dec 11 2013

Elect (Eagle Elite, #2) by Rachel Van Dyken

Author: Bibliowhore • Discussion: No Comments

Synopsis

Would you die for the one you love?

Nixon Abandonato made his choice. And now he has to pay the price. Tracey is the love of his life, but being with him has made her a target of his family’s enemies. The only way to keep Trace alive is convince the world she means nothing to him.

Trace Rooks has fallen irrevocably in love with the son of her family’s sworn rival, and she knows in her bones nothing can tear them apart. Until Nix suddenly pushes her away and into the arms of his best friend… But Trace isn’t ready to give up on a future with Nix–and if he won’t fight for them, she will.
In the end, a sacrifice must be made. A life for a life. For what better way to cover a multitude of sins than with the blood of a sinner . . .

Excerpt

“Let’s make a pact.” Chase put his hand on my shoulder.

“A pact?” I sniffled and turned to him. “What kind of pact?”

“One that’s forever. One that protects people rather than hurts them.”

“How do we do that?” I was suddenly interested. What if I could make all the hurt go away? What if I could save everyone!

“We do this.” Chase pulled out his pocketknife and cut open his hand, then nodded to me to do the same thing. Without pausing I cut open my hand and handed back the knife. “Blood brothers. We’re never gonna hurt each other and we’re gonna save those like your ma, Nixon. Ones who can’t save themselves. We’re going to protect them.”

“How?” I watched as the blood dripped from my open palm.

“Rules.” Chase shrugged. “They keep people safe, right? At least that’s what my mom says.” He smiled. “We make rules and we start our own club. That way, we don’t have to listen to anyone but us.”

I liked it. I chewed on my lower lip. “What do we call ourselves?”

“The chosen?” Chase offered.

“No, that sounds lame. We have to sound… more powerful than that.”

My eyes flickered to the road, and a sign poked into the ground. It said election. “Elect.” I pointed. “Let’s call ourselves The Elect.” It made sense; after all, the president was elected, wasn’t he? We weren’t exactly chosen, but we were making the choice, we were electing ourselves protectors. That’s what we were.

“Who else can join?” Chase asked.

“Tex and Phoenix. They’ll want to.” A weight suddenly felt like it was being lifted off my twelve-year-old shoulders. “Should we shake on it?”

“Yeah.” Chase smashed his hand against mine as our blood mixed. “No going back, Nixon.”

“No.” I shook my head. “No going back.”

I pressed my fingers to my temples and watched, replaying that moment over and over again in my head as the outline of Chase and Tracey flickered in the moonlight. Would he really do this to me? After all the shit we’d been through?

I gauged her reaction, hoping that I would be wrong. Praying to God that Trace would just this once listen to me. Her eyes flickered with interest for a few brief seconds before she looked down at the ground.

“Shit.” I waited in the shadows. A part of me knew this would happen. The part that told me to damn my feelings to hell and ignore all the warning signs that I’d been seeing. But now it seemed like it was too late. I stayed, planted where I was, watching, waiting.

“Chase, you can’t…” Trace shook her head. “You can’t be like this. We can’t do this!”

“We aren’t doing anything,” Chase said in low tones, reaching for Trace’s hand. “Don’t you?” He looked directly at me, although all he saw was a shadow. I knew I was well hidden. “Don’t you feel the same way?”

Trace jerked her hand away from Chase’s. “It doesn’t matter what I feel. It’s not about me, Chase.”

“But it is.” Chase reached for her again. This time her hand grasped his in such an intimate embrace I thought I was going to vomit all over the ground. The outside air was cold as hell as little pieces of ice tried to find their way into my wool coat.

“It isn’t.” Trace sighed. “It never was.”

Chase jerked her toward him. She fell against his chest and looked up into his eyes. “What are you doing?”

Chase sighed. “What I should have done a long time ago.” He grabbed the back of her head and pulled her in for a kiss. Their lips touched.

I had to look away.

The only sound in the night was that of my soft footsteps as I walked away… leaving my heart in broken pieces where I’d last stood. She was lost to me; it wasn’t even the Sicilians that had taken her, but my best friend.

A gunshot rang out loud and clear in the night air. I turned back around just in time to see Trace collapse into Chase’s arms.

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About the Author

Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor. She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband and their snoring Boxer, Sir Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers! You can follow her writing journey at http://rachelvandykenauthor.com/

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GIVEAWAY

Rafflecopter Prize Details:
5 WINNER: SIGNED Forever gift bag, Signed PRINT copy of ELITE (to catch you up on the series!)
5 WINNERS: 5 digital copies of ELITE

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Dec 09 2013

Sneaking Candy

Author: Bibliowhore • Discussion: No Comments

Synopsis:

All I ever wanted was to make a name for myself as Candice Salinas, creative writing grad student at the University of Miami. Of course, secretlyI already have made a name for myself: as Candy Sloane, self-published erotic romance writer. Though thrilled that my books are selling and I have actual fans, if anyone at UM found out, I could lose my scholarship…and the respect of my faculty advisor, grade-A-asshole Professor Dylan.

Enter James Walker, super-hot local barista and—surprise!—my student. Even though I know a relationship is totally off-limits, I can’t stop myself from sneaking around with James, taking a few cues from my own erotic writing…if you catch my drift. Candy’s showing her stripes for the first time in my real life, and I’ve never had so much fun. But when the sugar high fades, can my secrets stay under wraps?

About the Author:

Lisa Burstein is a tea seller by day and a writer by night. She received her MFA in Creative Writing from the Inland Northwest Center for Writers at Eastern Washington University. She is the author of the YA Novels: Pretty Amy and Dear Cassie and the NA Novella: The Next Forever. Sneaking Candy is her first full-length new adult novel.

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Book Trailer:

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Dec 08 2013

Last Hit (Hitman #1)

Author: Bibliowhore • Discussion: No Comments

Synopsis

Nikolai:

I have been a contract killer since I was a boy. For years I savored the fear caused by my name, the trembling at the sight of my tattoos. The stars on my knees, the marks on my fingers, the dagger in my neck, all bespoke of danger. If you saw my eyes, it was the last vision you’d have. I have ever been the hunter, never the prey. With her, I am the mark and I am ready to lie down and let her capture me. Opening my small scarred heart to her brings out my enemies. I will carry out one last hit, but if they hurt her, I will bring the world down around their ears.

Daisy:

I’ve been sheltered from the outside world all my life. Homeschooled and farm-raised, I’m so naive that my best friend calls me Pollyanna. I like to believe the best in people. Nikolai is part of this new life, and he’s terrifying to me. Not because his eyes are cold or my friend warns me away from him, but because he’s the only man that has ever seen the real me beneath the awkwardness. With him, my heart is at risk..and also, my life.

Mini Excerpt:

I watch her through my bathroom window. I’ve placed one of my four rented chairs in here for that express purpose. I tell myself it is not creepy, as the American girls would say, because I watch everyone. But really I watch only her.

I cannot see everything. I’ve never seen her nude. I’ve never seen inside her shower. Smartly there is no window there. But I can see her bedroom and her living room and beyond that, with my scope, her kitchen. I know her schedule. When she gets up in the morning, when she returns to her apartment. If she were a mark, I could’ve killed her a dozen times over by now and been in the wind.

She throws her bag onto her bed and then lies down next to it. It takes many muscles to smile, more to frown but only a few to pull the trigger. I peer down the scope and place my crosshairs over her forehead. Puff, dead.

EXCERPT

NIKOLAI

I feel restless and think perhaps I should review the information I have compiled for the mark or perhaps look at the routing pattern left by the caller from Neuchâtel. I do neither because as I begin to draw back from the scope her motions arrest me. Her small hand with the pink tipped nails are moving over her belly. One finger traces the tiny lace adorning the top band of her panties. My breath is suspended. Time is suspended.

I have never seen this before. She has never touched herself. Never brought a man home with her. I’d have shot him, maybe. No, I would’ve caused some disturbance. Something. I thought her maybe an innocent and fantasized about awakening her. But now her small fingers are delving beneath the cotton. I can see the bumps of her knuckles as the press against the pale pink fabric. She is moving her fingers in circles.

I imagine my own fingers, much larger, darker and more rough, pressing down upon hers. My fingers flex involuntarily at the thought of her pussy beneath my touch. I’d stroke her lightly and in circles as that is what she appears to like. I’d move my fingers lower, beyond her clit to her hot cunt. It would be wet, dripping wet. My fingers would be soaked and I would pause so that I could lick her sweet honey off each digit.

My cock is so hard I fear that it will break against the denim of my jeans. I draw a hand over my chest and pinch my own nipple hard imagining it is her tiny white teeth tugging on it. I’ve broken out in a light sweat.

Her legs tense and her hand motions become more frantic. I can see her chest rise and fall rapidly and her whole body is strained but when her release comes it is truncated. The look on her face is of frustration rather than satisfaction. She wets her plump lips and closes her eyes. She begins again but again she is unfulfilled.

My emotions war against each other. Unhappiness that she cannot find her own fulfillment but fierce possessiveness arising out of an idea I’ve tried to suppress. In my mind, only I can bring her to orgasm and release. I can teach her to touch herself in a way that will be pleasurable and satisfying.

I would not start with her pussy. No, the skin is the largest sex organ. I would stroke my hands over every inch, starting from her forehead. My lips and fingers would smooth away any furrows. My hands would encircle her neck and sweep down over her shoulders to her fine wrists.

I’d rub my body over hers so that she smelled of me. When she walked on campus, other men would stay away recognizing she was marked as my own. Belonging to Nikolai. Maybe I would tattoo it around her neck like a collar.

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Chapters 1 – 4 were released November 28th, 29th, 30th and December 1st.

Chapter One posted at Natasha is a Book Junkie and can be found HERE

Chapter Two posted at Angie’s Dreamy Reads and can be found HERE

Chapter Three posted at The Rock Stars of Romance and can be found HERE

Chapter Four posted at The Rock Stars of Romance and can be found HERE

ABOUT THE AUTHORS

Author Jen Frederick

Jen Frederick lives with her husband, child, and one rambunctious dog. She’s been reading stories all her life but never imagined writing one of her own. Jen loves to hear from readers so drop her a line at jensfrederick@gmail.com.

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Author Jessica Claire
This is a pen name for Jill Myles.
Jill Myles has been an incurable romantic since childhood. She reads all the ‘naughty parts’ of books first, looks for a dirty joke in just about everything, and thinks to this day that the Little House on the Prairie books should have been steamier.

After devouring hundreds of paperback romances, mythology books, and archaeological tomes, she decided to write a few books of her own – stories with a wild adventure, sharp banter, and lots of super-sexy situations. She prefers her heroes alpha and half-dressed, her heroines witty, and she loves nothing more than watching them overcome adversity to fall into bed together.

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Giveaway

$100 GC
Signed set of Jessica Clare BlueBonnet series published by Berkley.
The Care and Feeding of the Alpha Male
The Girl’s Guide to Manhunting
The Expert’s Guide to Driving a Man Wild
Signed set of Woodlands books with dog tag set.
Signed copy of last Hit.

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Dec 06 2013

Counting Shadows (Duplicity #1)

Author: Bibliowhore • Discussion: No Comments

Synopsis:

Two hearts, one kiss…

…Nothing left.

Faye’s soul-mate is everything she should hate—an Angel, an outcast, an enemy. Ashe is just one more imperfection in her life that somehow makes everything… perfect.

Until he’s murdered.

With the only person she loves ripped away, Faye sets out to avenge Ashe’s death. The task seems impossible, until she finds Lor—an Angel who looks nearly identical to Ashe’s killer. Arrogant and hot-headed, Lor is everything Ashe wasn’t. But Lor is connected to her soul-mate’s past, and Faye needs him to find the killer—even if Lor is potentially deadly.

But when Faye discovers that Ashe’s past isn’t as black and white as she thought, she faces an impossible choice: Give up the hunt, and risk the lives of others. Or continue pursuing Ashe’s murderer, and forfeit the lives of everyone in her family—including herself.

Excerpt

His black eyes settle on mine, the pain in them a silent accusation. Ashe knows he’s about to die. And he knows I’ve lied about his Fate.

I can’t feel guilt. I can’t feel anything. There’s only my ragged breaths and the tears pressing against my eyes. Ashe steps toward me, even though I’m in the opposite direction of the door. No, I silently beg him. Run. I don’t realize I’m shaking my head until he falters.

“Stop,” one of the guards hisses, even though he already has. “Don’t go near the Lady Faye.”

My heart pounds wildly. “Just count the beats when you get scared,” Ashe told me months ago, as he pressed his palm over my heart. “Remember that I’ll protect you until the day they stop. And don’t be scared anymore.”

I gasp in air. One, two, three, four…

He walks toward me, his face hard with determination.

Five, six, seven…

One of the guards shouts and stabs his spear forward. At Ashe. My Ashe.

My heart stops.

I scream at the guard, telling him to stop, to leave, to disappear and never show his face again. But my words are a jumbled mess, and it’s too late. The spear pierces Ashe’s right wing, drawing blood. Nausea fills me as the red blood mingles with his crimson feathers. I’ve always loved his wings. They mark him as an Angel, the one bit of perfection in my life.

Now those wings are ruined.

Ashe’s eyes never leave me, even as the guard tears his spear out of the wound. I swallow hard. I’ve never stared into his eyes for too long, knowing I’d probably lose myself in all the pain and loneliness in their depths. Now I never want to look away.

“Get moving,” the guard with the bloodied spear growls. He stabs at Ashe again, but Ashe grabs the shaft of the spear before it strikes him. He yanks the spear from the guard and snaps it in two. Ashe allows one of the halves to clatter to the stone floor, but keeps hold of the sharpened end. His gaze slowly sweeps over the four guards with weapons, a low growl rumbling in his throat.

“You can’t do this,” I say, finally finding my voice. “My father would never allow it.”

“Your father ordered this,” snaps the guard without a spear. He braces for an attack, as do the others.

Then their leader takes a step forward and pushes out a staying hand. “Wait.”

I recognize this leader as Jolik. He was my bodyguard for awhile before Ashe became my Guardian. I’m not sure how many bodyguards I went through—five, six?—but they never lasted long before I excused them.

Jolik nods to Ashe. “Let him say goodbye.”

The weaponless guard speaks up. “He could kill her.”

“He won’t,” Jolik says, shaking his head.

Ashe doesn’t wait for Jolik to change his mind. He drops the broken spear and rushes to me. Cupping my face with one hand, he uses the other to press me against him. Familiar heat radiates off him this close. He tilts my chin up and kisses me so gently, I barely feel his lips against mine. But I can feel the desperation, and as he presses me a little closer, I know this is a goodbye.

The kiss only lasts a moment. Then the guards drag him away, and those threatening tears finally spill. I’m not sure if the tears are angry or anguished. Or maybe just broken.

“You’re right, little sparrowhawk,” Ashe says over his shoulder. “Everything is going to be okay. I promise.”

I don’t get to respond. The last guard exits my chambers and slams the heavy door closed, leaving me truly alone for the first time in years. I take a shuddering breath, willing the doors to burst open, for Ashe to come rushing back to me.

They don’t. Silence settles over the room, screaming the truth:

Nothing will ever be okay.

About the Author

Olivia Rivers is the author of five novels, ranging in genres from Epic Fantasy to Contemporary Romance. Along with being a writer, she’s a freelance digital artist, a literary agent assistant, and a high school student. She’s a nerd at heart, and is a hopeless fan-girl for Doctor Who and Pokémon. Olivia lives in California with a dog who thinks he’s a cat, a cat who thinks he’s a dog, and a kitten who is just generally confused.