Thursday, December 18, 2014

Computer Love Inc II: Gestation by Kurt and Jessica Hansen





Computer Love Inc. II: Gestation
Computer Love Inc. Series
Book II
Kurt and Jessica Hansen

Genre: Science Fiction  

ISBN: 978-0989068338
ASIN: B00O05VR6C

Number of pages: 215
Word Count: 46,095

Cover Artist: Steven J. Catizone

Book Description:

After the sudden deaths of two previous Computer Love Inc. CEOs, Marius takes control of the company. Embracing the talents of his godson, John, and his best friend, Zak, he hires the boys to oversee the Companion Services Division.

Marius refines his breakthrough technology, the Brain Machine Download, and as a result, creates his double, M2, as the prototype. Together, they ignite the future of
Computer Love Inc. by acquiring an elite team of scientists to expand the company’s technological boundaries. Meanwhile, Marius struggles with the government’s demands for a clandestine initiative - the Secret Service Companion.

Between the looming government presence and the overwhelming force behind his new team of inventors, can Marius survive the outcome of his own creations?

Available at Amazon and BN


Music Playlist for Computer Love Inc. II: Gestation

We don’t want to give away any important scenes for anyone who has not yet read the book, but if you are familiar with the storyline or if you’d like to read it in conjunction with the “soundtrack,” we feel that these songs work well alongside the chapters we’ve outlined here:

Chapter 1: Phantom Planet, “California”; AWOLNATION, “Sail”
Chapter 2: Imagine Dragons, “Radioactive”
Chapter 3: Everclear, “Santa Monica”
Chapter 4: David Guetta & Sia, “Titanium”
Chapter 5: Jimmy Eat World, “The Middle”
Chapter 6: The Fray, “How to Save a Life”
Chapter 7: Muse, “Uprising”
Chapter 8: The Black Keys, “Gold on the Ceiling”
Chapter 9: Kanye West, “Power
Chapter 10: OneRepublic, “I Lived”; Black Sabbath, “War Pigs”
Chapter 11: Kenny Chesney, “Shiftwork”; Alan Jackson & Jimmy Buffett, “It’s Five O’Clock Somewhere”
Chapter 12: Tiesto, “Wasted”
Chapter 13: Mumford & Sons, “Broken Crown”
Chapter 14: Kacey Musgraves, “Silver Lining”
Chapter 15: Zac Brown Band, “Who Knows” 
  
Excerpt #1:
          “So, Marius, I’m pleased, as I’m sure you must be, that the download between you and I went so well.”
          The remark was sudden and bewildering. 
          “Yes, I am also pleased…”  Marius paused.  “What brings that up, M2?  Is there something you feel we need to improve upon?”
           “No, actually, I don’t think that at all.  In fact, I think the process and aftermath have proven to be extremely fruitful, don’t you?”
          “Well, yes…  But then, what is it?”
          “I just recalled an idea we had, that’s all,” M2 said.
          “’We’ had an idea?”
          “Well, as you know, to say that we think alike would be an understatement.”  M2 paused and allowed Marius to have a laugh.  “So obviously your knowledge of robotics resides not only within you, but within me as well.  I know you’ve thought about it, the possibility to help the company pounce into the next generation.  What if, say, we were to make a team of Companions, not unlike myself, created from experts in different fields?  For example…  We could use that famous technology instructor, the woman from Advance Propulsion Labs who’s won awards for all of those groundbreaking projects they’ve done recently, or even that metal-loving genius who combines materials recovered from asteroids with titanium and such.  It would be a team of biorobotic and propulsion brilliance with unlimited potential!”

Excerpt #2:
The room remained silent.  Ten pairs of eyes were fixed on Marius, not even a single person consumed with a hangnail or discreetly checking messages on his or her unit.
“So then – and please forgive me when I say this, because often it seems that social delicacies elude me; I’m sure you all possess unique and likeable personalities, but really – it’s your brains that we’re after here.”
Again Marius paused.  By now, some gazes had shifted: faces looked amongst one another, gauging reactions – animals measuring a threat by observing the rest of the pack.
“Have you ever heard someone say, ‘Can I pick your brain’?  Essentially, that’s what I’d like to do here.  I need your brilliance, and I implore you to consider this proposal.  I would like to perform a Brain Machine Download on each of you in order to capture your intelligence.  Is everyone familiar with what the theory of the BMD is, or what it entails?”
If they were not familiar, no one spoke up or raised a hand.  Again, the looks flashed around the room – there were a few who wanted to know more, but, seeing that no one else had first spoken up, they remained quiet.  Marius had seen it.  Even in the wisest, cowardice lives…


Excerpt #3:
          The wave was perhaps the greatest in height they’d ever seen.  Later, John was sure they’d recount it as being of tidal proportions, hyperbolic as they always were when it came to surfing expeditions.  But in truth, he wasn’t even sure how to approach its vastness; he caught the edge of the big, rolling force in an awkward, unbalanced maneuver, yet he evened himself out at once, rising up into a standing position, and coming through the tube with precision.
          Zak waited for John to reach their squatting spot once again, then greeted him with a seated bow from atop his board.  “Nicely done.  But that was great luck, catching a swell that size.  Next one’s mine.”
          They didn’t have to wait long.  The pair ignored a series of smaller waves that rolled past (though, by a normal day’s standards, they would have been worth riding), until a massive upsurge formed within the surf, collecting all of the surrounding water to join its force.  Zak was gone before John could give him any encouragement.
          John held up his unit, readying its hologramera to capture Zak’s performance.  He pressed “record,” but then, a loud beep emanated from underneath him, coming from his surfboard.  The sonar screen at the top of his board lit up, depicting a large incoming vessel approaching Zak’s position.  John looked up again, but noticed that Zak was alone - there were no other surfers or boats nearby.

About the Authors:

Kurt and Jessica Hansen reside in northern New Jersey . Kurt has worked in the aerospace electronics industry for over three decades and enjoys the outdoors, writing, and composing music. Kurt is easily recognized with a guitar in his lap, a pencil in his mouth, and a piece of paper in front of him.

Jessica graduated from Montclair State University, summa cum laude, with a B.A. in English. Her favorite pastimes include reading, running and spending time with her family. She can usually be found with a book in one hand and a hazelnut coffee in the other.



twitter: @ComputerLoveInc


Tuesday, December 16, 2014

A More Perfect Union by Betty Bolte


Emily’s Vow
A More Perfect Union
Book 1
Betty Bolté


Genre:  Historical Romance
Publisher: ePublishing Works!
Date of Publication: October 4, 2014
Ebook: 978-1-61417-654-1
Paperback: 978-1-61417-655-8
ASIN: B00O7601NY
Number of pages:           247
Cover Artist: ePublishing Works!

Book Description:

Emily Sullivan’s greatest fear is dying in childbirth, as did her twin sister and their mother. Then she’s thrown in a loyalist prison for her privateering father’s raids on the British, and her accuser--a former beau--promises to recant if she will marry him.

Frank Thomson always loved Emily despite her refusal to return his affections. A patriot spy posing as a loyalist officer, when Frank learns of Emily’s plight, he challenges her accuser to a duel.

Freed from prison, Emily ponders returning the affections of her rescuer--the only man she's ever loved and who married her twin to save the Sullivan family's reputation. But Frank cannot afford to be discovered. For the sake of young America, he must deliver his secrets.


Available at    Amazon    BN    Kobo   iBooks  Google Books


Excerpt:


Emily hurried down the sandy road beside her friend, noting the waning sunshine draping shadows across the street. The slap of the waves at the distant convergence of the Cooper and Ashley Rivers beat a syncopated rhythm against the array of ship hulls, large and small, in the protected harbor. Many of the masts bobbing against the darkening sky sported the hated British flag. The losing army had resorted to sanctioned looting of the beautiful homes—those still standing after two years of British occupation as well as fires and bombardments—as booty for the officers and soldiers before they withdrew. She hoped they would leave soon, but nobody knew exactly when the British ships planned to depart. They'd already sent the bells to London along with other pilfered items. In fact, the British officers sought retaliation for the threat posed by the patriots, who had hidden their true allegiance, against the loyalists living in the city. The officers encouraged harassment of the American citizens, which translated into her father, a leading merchant in town, fearing for her safety more than ever. Until the British actually evacuated, uncertainty and fear blanketed the town.

Dragging in a deep breath, unease settled over Emily's frayed nerves at the thought of Frank's return. "I cannot believe Father insists I marry him after all that man has done. Surely Americans have matured enough they wouldn't force a woman to marry. It's 1782, after all. I'm not a child. Why doesn't he understand?"

A seagull glided past, its laughing call bringing a smile to her face. Her enjoyment didn't last long, though. The occupation of the town created fear and disquiet throughout the citizenry. Add in the horror of her sister Elizabeth's fiancé Jedediah dying, leaving her pregnant and in need of a husband. Then Jedediah's brother Frank, the man Emily had secretly cared for, married her sister to keep the child from being a bastard. Emily survived the misery of watching Frank marry Elizabeth only to suffer much more when Elizabeth died in childbirth with Frank away at war. Emily had come to terms with the prospect of raising her nephew, but being forced into marriage with Frank, too? How could life turn and twist with such disregard for her future goals and plans?

Frank's imminent arrival now distressed her as much as the three hundred British ships crowding the harbor. The rumor about town suggested the ships stood poised to carry away the defeated enemy troops along with any loyalists wanting to flee the town. Many slaves would likely take the chance on freedom offered by the British, despite the American protests. The constant motion of the water for once failed to soothe her troubled thoughts.

"Have you told your father how you feel?" Samantha matched Emily's stride easily despite her slight limp and the basket she carried.

Sharing her feelings with her father had once enjoyed an easy place in Emily's heart. Now his demands for her to cloister within the theoretic safety of the town house, joined with his desire that she marry to secure her future, made confiding in him difficult. His concern stemmed from her advancing age with few appropriate prospects for marriage due to America's fight for its independence from an overbearing mother country, which seemed to be winding down. She longed for those carefree days, years before, filled with friendly banter and heartfelt discussions with her father.

Emily wrinkled her nose. "I haven't spoken with him, not that I think he'll care. He's more concerned with my supposed need for a protector while he's away." What a pickle. Did he have to choose Frank to serve as both bodyguard and suitor?

The thought created ripples of fear along her spine. Marrying a man, any man, meant losing her individuality, a fate she dreaded. The vows included obeying and honoring him, which translated into having his children. She shivered, recalling her twin sister on her deathbed mere days after delivering her son. Emily held her hand as Elizabeth's life departed, her fingers falling limp within Emily's clutching grasp. Just like their mother before her.

So many young women across the country feared pregnancy and being brought to bed for that very reason. Elizabeth, like many of those women, had written out her will when she discovered she carried a child. At least the document detailed her wishes for her son. And her surrogate husband, Frank Thomson. Elizabeth was to wed Jedediah, the betrothal announced and celebrated, before Elizabeth revealed she was with child. The banns had been read twice when his militia duty arose and he'd left to fight. If Jedediah hadn't been killed, Frank would not have felt obligated to do his duty as Jedediah's brother to wed Elizabeth and give the unborn child a father and thus avoid bastardy.

Emily used to think of him as her Frank, until he told her his decision to wed Elizabeth. Her heart had hurt for months as she struggled to understand and accept the reality that she could never have him. But once Elizabeth died in similar circumstances as their mother, Emily's fear of dying as a result of childbirth eclipsed any naive desire to marry.

No, better to pursue her dreams of opening her ladies' accessories shop. She squared her shoulders, ready to face the astonishment of the ladies in town as well as plan a strategy for the battle when her father voiced his objections.

Amy’s Choice
A More Perfect Union
Book 2
Betty Bolté

Genre: Historical Romance
Publisher: ePublishing Works!
Date of Publication: October 5, 2014
Ebook: 978-1-61417-659-6
Paperback: 978-1-61417-660-2
ASIN: B00O7984P8
Number of pages:           231

Book Description:

Without a goodbye, Amy Abernathy's childhood sweetheart, Benjamin Hanson, leaves to fight in the American War for Independence.

Amy chooses to pick up the pieces of her heart and leave Charles Town to help her sister who is with child.

Benjamin knows he hurt Amy, but he plans to make it up to her after his mission is completed. Then he learns that Amy has been captured by renegade soldiers. Now Benjamin faces his own choice: free the sassy yet obstinate woman he's never stopped loving or protect Charles Town from vengeful British occupation.


Available at   Amazon    BN    Kobo   iBooks  Google Books


Excerpt:

"Benjamin, what brings you out here so early this morning?" Walter slathered yellow butter on yet another slice of bread.

Amy kept her eyes on her plate, but her movements slowed, indicating she listened intently.

"Colonel Scarsdale made an important announcement last week, one that increases the chance of violent retaliation and looting by the British troops as they prepare to evacuate the city." Benjamin kept his eyes on Walter but watched Amy's actions at the side of his vision.

"Is the war finally over then?" Walter laid down his knife, eyes intent on Benjamin.

"It appears to be, all but the acts of signing the peace treaty and evacuating His Majesty's troops."

"When might that happen?" Emily fisted her napkin and gazed at him with hopeful eyes.

"As soon as conditions allow them to leave the harbor. But between now and then they will scavenge for any items of value they can lay their hands upon." He willed Amy to look at him, and finally she rewarded him by lifting her eyes to meet his. The force of her gaze sent a shock racing through him, stirring a reaction below his belt. Shifting to be more comfortable, he held her stare for a moment.

"But how does that impact us out here?" Amy regarded him, one hand poised above her plate, a bite of ham waiting. "Surely the Britons will not harm us so far from town. They'll be busy preparing to evacuate."

"Clearly you do not fathom the reality of the matter." When Amy merely stared at him, realization dawned as to the extent of the situation before him. He nearly let out a loud breath in annoyance. He checked the reflex. He needed to address the fact that Amy wasn't the only one in danger. Ideas popped into his head and he dismissed several before nodding. A simple solution. "I have come to take the girls back to town where I can keep them safe."

A startled silence followed his pronouncement.

"We are safe here." Samantha strode into the room and made straight for the sideboard.

Benjamin rose to greet her, and she waved him back into his seat. As he resettled himself, he noted Walter had not moved from where he sat crunching on a slice of apple.

"Yes, more so than we'd be in town at any rate." Emily looked from one person to another. "So many soldiers still roam the streets, after all."

"Besides, we cannot move Evelyn." Amy held knife and fork poised to slice through the ham. "I won't leave her here alone. She needs help until the baby arrives, and for a span after."

"She has me." Walter laid his hands flat on the table at either side of his plate. "I can take care of her."

Why did Walter brace himself as he spoke about his wife? Benjamin recognized the defensive nature, an insecurity, exemplified in Walter's behavior.

Amy darted a glance at Walter, then returned her gaze to Benjamin. "That's my fear."

Her mouth formed a stubborn pout as her eyes reflected her concern. What had occurred here to provoke such a statement? Amy glanced at Walter with unease plain in her expression, her distrust of the man evident. Despite himself, Benjamin tensed at the idea of Amy living under the same roof as Walter.

"I know how to defend myself, so I'll stay." Samantha placed her napkin in her lap. "More to the point, Evelyn will deliver any day now, and she'll need me."

Walter looked like he wanted to say something but held his thoughts in check. His brow lowered as he dipped his bread into his coffee. Walter did not act as refined in character as his appearance first suggested. More pieces to the puzzle fell into place, but still some holes remained before Benjamin formed an opinion of him.

"You'll need help with running this place." Emily laid her napkin on the table, her eyes steady on Samantha. "I'm accomplished at that, so I will stay to assist."

Seeing where this was leading, Benjamin made an effort to change the conversation's course. "In the event, Miss Amy stays with me." He spoke with less conviction than earlier as his resolve wilted under the arguments put forth by the women surrounding him. "I can't stay away from town long, not only because Captain Sullivan expects me to ensure the museum collection is not touched, but also because Amy's father requested I bring my fiancée back posthaste."

A feminine gasp drew his eyes to Amy's startled expression. Damnation. Too late, he realized his error as, in rhythm with three blinks, her stubborn expression shifted to surprise, then anger.

"Pardon me?" Her eyebrows arched over wide eyes. "You are engaged? To whom, pray tell?"

The set of her jaw dared him to say what he must in order to tell the truth of the matter. An attack of cotton mouth forced him to try to swallow as he searched for the proper response. How crass could he be, blurting out his bald intent? His carefully prepared speech blown apart by his own foolish words. Again, words had tripped him up and left him floundering. Yet, his mother would be proud of him for sticking to the facts, even if they created an awkward moment. He heaved a sigh. Nothing for it but the bare truth. "I spoke with your parents a few days ago, and they agreed..."

"Stop." Amy, face red, held up a hand as though warding off a blow. "Pray, don't tell me my parents actually negotiated with you for my hand?"


About the Author:

Betty Bolté writes both historical and contemporary stories featuring strong, loving women and brave, compassionate men. No matter whether the stories are set in the past or the present, she loves to include a touch of the paranormal. In addition to her romantic fiction, she’s the author of several nonfiction books and earned a Master’s in English in 2008. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, the Historical Novel Society, the Women’s Fiction Writers Association, and the Authors Guild. Get to know her at www.bettybolte.com.

Website: www.bettybolte.com 
Twitter: @BettyBolte 

Waterfall by Lacy Danes





Waterfall
A Dragon’s Fate Novella
Book 1
Lacy Danes

Genre: Romance, Alternate Worlds, Paranormal, Steamy/Erotic
Publisher: Samhain Publishing
Number of pages: 138
Word Count: 38K

Cover Artist: Kanaxa    
Book Description:

It’s easy to fall in love. Destiny requires tooth and claw.

Curses are designed to be cruel, but the one afflicting Jordan and his brothers  is almost beyond bearing. A dragon born by blood magic, he is an immortal  trapped in human form, with only one hope of finding his eternal mate. He must  bite her—and pray she lives.

One dark night, he senses the wounded heartbeat of a woman in the shadows, begging him to end her life. Ever the gentleman, he chivalrously obliges her wish. Only to discover three days later that she lives. And has married another.

Celeste always dreamed of marrying for love, but the nightmare of living in her father’s home drives her to wed the Duke of Hudson. Yet on her wedding eve, she is compelled to follow a mysterious man who professes to know her secret. A man with curious blue scales on his muscular arms—whose shadowed eyes reflect a dangerous mix of destiny and desire…

Warning: This novel contains explicit sex, sex in water, four super-hot dragon brothers, and a curse born from magical power that has left them wondering who they are all their lives.

Available at Samhain   BN   Amazon  iTunes  Google Books

Excerpt:

Carefully stepping around scattered, fractured boards, trunks and lengths of tangled rope, Jordan and Ferrous neared the last grouping of rocks at the trees’ edge. Jordan sighed. About time.

A faint heartbeat crawled out of the obscure shadows, stalked up his spine. Something lived from this bloody mess. Though barely.

Jordan stilled.

Ferrous turned to the left. “I feel it too.”

Jordan followed.

On the opposite side of the rocks, jagged boards bumped, clattering against a boulder. A mass of tangled human remains bobbed and swayed with each lap of water against the shore.

From this mess, a heartbeat cried. Jordan closed his eyes and sighed as his stomach flipped. He would find it. He stepped into the water amid the carnage and shuddered. I must move as hastily as possible. I can do this. The sound of life grasped him as if a hand itself clasped his flesh. He flinched, then turned to the left.

An arm’s length away, half in the water, lay a woman. Her limbs were twisted and broken, as if made of nothing more than weeds. A man’s head, severed from the body it had once belonged to, floated close to her hand. Jordan’s heart pinched, and the scales on his elbows prickled anew.

No one deserved to be half alive after experiencing a tragedy such as this. He stepped up next to her, knocking the human debris away with his boot. He leaned down and wrapped one hand about her slim, bare shoulders. The other he slid beneath her knees, fisting up a handful of her full skirts. She should have drowned in such a garment. He lifted her, pulling her body up against his.

She hung like a sack of barley in his grasp. Her long, wet skirts and hair trailed cold water in a stream, trickling over the rocks and babbling down into his boots. He turned and stumbled along the slag toward the trees.

Ferrous turned after him. “She won’t live, Jordan.” He strode behind him. “Leave her.”

Her clothing, laden with seawater, soaked his coat in blood. Was it hers or the rotting blood of the pool in which she had lain? He shook his head. Don’t think about the stench. He grimaced. Think about her.

Ferrous was right. She would never live.

He fell to his knees and laid her on the high grass that bordered the trees. Her dress was that of an aristocrat, finely tailored with small pearls and embroidery now torn open down to her flesh in several places. Her hair had been swept up with the sun, golden rays that now hid beneath a cloud of red death. “I will end her suffering.” Yes, that was the correct thing to do.

“For bloody sake, Jordan. You are not to indulge unless you have an inkling she may be the one. There are no exceptions to our rules. Look what happens to Ilmir when he breaks one. Who knows what calamity awaits us in London.”

Jordan’s jaw clenched, and he narrowed his eyes, refusing to look at Ferrous, who stood behind him. “This is different, and you damn well know it. I am not Ilmir, and she is not a woman I am courting. She is dying.”

“Being chivalrous?” Ferrous threw up his hands, grumbled and walked through the trees back toward the shore. “Make haste. I wish to make this hellish scene vanish this hellish scene and be to London to deal with Ilmir.”

Did Ferrous truly think he wanted to do this? To kill another woman was the last thing he wished. Twenty years had passed… Jordan inhaled a deep breath and blew it out between tense lips. He ran his fingers down her pale cheek and around her chin, tilting her face toward his. A slender nose, full, angelic lips, and noble cheekbones. A beauty. “To a better afterlife, dear.”

He raised her chin, exposing her long, graceful neck and faintly beating pulse. Another death…

Dash it. He stared unblinking at the slight flutter of her blood beneath her skin. Relax, Jordan. He closed his eyes and exhaled. All will be well.

Prickling pain clawed through the roof of his mouth as his two pointed teeth extended into thin slivers of bone. He stared down at her neck. She had been floating in blood and seawater. He spit on her neck, twice. His saliva glimmered as it slid down her throat to the grass below. There, that should wash away the dirt she had stewed in. Or would it? His throat tightened. Don’t lick her. Be done with it.

He leaned in and pressed his teeth to her vein. His mouth opened, saliva pooled heavily, and his tongue thickened. The pouches by his back teeth filled with poisonous blood, forcing his jaw still wider. He inhaled a jagged breath. His heart leapt and pounded, vibrating through his entire being…

Bite her, Jordan. Be done with it. Bite her.

Her faint pulse bumped against his teeth, willing him to take her as his mate. Mate? Well, that urge was pointless. She would pass just as swiftly as the others. He rolled his lip back and hissed, then pressed, slicing through her soft, salty outer skin and into her tepid blood flowing below.

She didn’t flinch.

This was the first time he had taken a woman when he was not passionately joined with her. Odder yet not to have her scream. To have her do nothing but lie on the wilted grass.

He swallowed. Dirt be damned, he needed to taste her and know that one essence of the life he now took. He fluttered his tongue on her smooth skin. Warm, salty blood slid thickly down his tongue. Damn. His muscles quivered as his poisonous blood streamed from his pouches and down his teeth, twisting into her veins. His cock pressed painfully hard against his thigh.

The task was done. There would be no more. He would not take his pleasure in her. He would not know the feel of her flesh against his. He would never know her favorite color. This woman, like all the others who had come before, was not meant to be his. Enough!

He growledand opened his mouth wide. Her soft flesh slipped from his fangs. He pulled his head back, and their mixed blood trailed in streams down her neck and dress. His vision shifted and popped. Adrenaline mixed with power bubbled through his veins. This…this, he had missed.

This was what he was meant to be. His full elemental power at a glimpse. He tossed his hair back and then growled a dragon’s cry up to where the moon should hang in a radiant, colored vision. Yet only the ebony fog resided tonight. There was no moon to lighten this scene. His vision rippled with detailed clarity. Ah. Indeed. This was the power that years of existence without his mate had diminished. He wanted this power back. It had been too long. In a burst of speckled light, everything changed back to somber mist. Bloody hell. His throat closed off, and his eyes burned. No! He swallowed hard, and his shoulders sagged. This was a tease. A temptation.

He closed his eyes and shook his head. He would never know more of what the Zir were than this… Death and a glimpse of the exhilarating power they were destined to have.

He inhaled and smelled her metallic, sweet blood on his lips. His tongue traced his teeth and upper lip, gathering up the enslaving essence. Sweet orange blossoms and candied cherries. His made-up version of what she should taste like. Remember her. His jaw trembled as hot blood pounded through him to his groin. His soul wanted more of her. To mate. To love. To live a lifetime of companionship.

He clenched his teeth, and his fangs pierced his lower lip. You have done enough to end her suffering. Quite enough. Let her be. He opened his eyes once more.

A shadow shaped as Ferrous stood head down and arms straight out in the air at the rocks’ edge. “Make haste. I wait no more.”

Jordan placed her head softly back on the grass. “Will scant be a moment more of pain, beauty.” He trailed his hand down her broken arm to a heavy, thick bracelet looping her wrist. He unclasped the chain and slowly rubbed the metal between his fingers. His token of her death. He tucked the jewelry in his inner coat pocket, then rose to his full height. Turning to his left, he skulked into the inky woods.

 
About the Author:

Lacy Danes made a New Year's resolution to write a hot, historical romance.

A year and a half later, she achieved her goal. She lives in Portland, Oregon, where besides writing she enjoys playing cards, chasing her kids around, and savoring a great martini with the man of her dreams all while watching the world go by.

 Visit Lacy at her web site.

https://www.facebook.com/LacyDanes

Monday, December 15, 2014

Feel by Karen-Anne Stewart

 
 
 

Feel
Karen-Anne Stewart
Genre:  New Adult Paranormal Romance
Suspense /Contemporary
Date of Publication:  December 15th, 2014.
 ISBN:  978-1502757746
Number of pages: 276
Word Count:  94,000
Book Description: 
The one whose emotions I can’t feel is the one who makes me feel the most.
I was a sensitive, at least that’s what I was told by the boy who saved me from the overwhelming emotions that consumed my soul, the boy who saved me from myself when my gift became stronger. Through the years, he was my redemption, my reason to take my next breath…then, he was gone.
 
Jensen always told me I was strong, but I didn’t believe him until I was forced to be strong on my own, and I kept breathing without him. I’ve taken 42 million breaths since the moment he sent me away. Now, four years later, he’s standing in front of me, and I can barely breathe.
 
This isn’t just a story about the abilities I possess; it’s a story about something much stronger…the love of the man who possesses every part of me.
 
Disclaimer – Feel is intended for readers 18+ due to strong language, mature scenes, and some violence.
 
Available at Amazon
Excerpt 3:
 
Her dark eyes are clouded with doubt as she searches me, needing me to tell her what I see, needing me to be her strength right now after she’s been strong on her own for far too long, and just needing me.  I want to rip the hearts out of everyone who has hurt her, but I tame the rage so I can give her everything she needs of me right now.  “The second I met you I knew that you were special and I don’t mean just because of your gift.  There’s this wild gentleness buried inside of you that is rare.  You fight for what you believe, never backing down, even when you felt all the pain, all of the shit from everyone fighting to restrain you.  You didn’t give a damn what you lost of yourself and did what you felt was right, what needed to be done.  There aren’t many people like you left, Saige.  You said I was your hero, well, I’m not the hero here.  You are.
    “I’m sorry,” she blurts, rubbing her hands down her tear stained cheeks.
   “For what?” I ask, using my thumbs to help her dry her tears.
   “I don’t know,” she answers.  “For punching your friend, for being stupid, for everything.”
   “That’s a helluva lot to be sorry for.”  My lips curve into a smile and another tear slides down her cheek, leaving a hot, wet trail that I trace with my finger.
   “I’m also sorry for how I’ve treated you since we met again.”
   “You thought I sent you to a nut house.  Don’t sweat it,” I tease, trying to cheer her up.
   “So that excuses my being a total bitch to you?” Her eyes are red and puffy when she stops rubbing them and gives me a lopsided smile, looking so damn beautiful.
   “No, it explains why you’ve been a total bitch,” I grin, giving her a wicked wink, “but I have a whole other slew of ideas of how you can make up to me for your bitchiness.”
   She laughs, the sound soft yet strong, and so fucking seducing, the sweet lull rumbles through her throat like an aphrodisiac.  After what she said about Wes, I can’t be like him.  She deserves to know she’s loved before she gives herself to me.  After all she’s been through, I won’t risk the chance that she’ll get scared I’ll leave her like he did.  There will be no doubt about how much I love her when we make love for the first time; I’ll make damn sure of that.
 
 
 
About the Author:
 
Karen-Anne Stewart  is an author of New Adult Romance who doesn't shy away from writing about sensitive issues and hot heroes.
 
She has always adored reading and has now fallen in love with writing. Her written works are The Rain Trilogy: Saving Rain, Healing Rain, and After the Rain, and the newly released standalone novel, Ash to Steele. Her debut novel, Saving Rain: The First Novel in The Rain Trilogy, was a nominee for the Book Junkie’s Choice Awards, and Saving Rain and After the Rain were nominees for the 2014 RONE Awards.
 
When Karen-Anne isn’t writing, she enjoys spending time with her family and friends, hiking, and visiting new places. She fuels her addiction of creating new stories by her only other addiction, caffeine, and listening to a myriad of musical genres. Tucked away near the Blue Ridge Mountains, Karen-Anne lives with her husband, daughter, three dogs, and their cat. She plans on writing new adult romance as long as her fingers maintain dexterity.
 
Facebook author page: https://www.facebook.com/SKarenAnne
 
 

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Braving Fate by Linsey Hall



Two words: Celtic. Scotland. 
Need more? Loved this book. 
:)


Welcome Linsey!






Braving Fate
The Mythean Arcana
Book 1
Linsey Hall

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Bonnie Doon Press

ISBN: 978-1-942085-00-3
ASIN: B00O27QLAU

Number of pages: 273
Word Count: 80K

Cover Artist: Damonza

Book Description: 

As chaos looms, a warrior queen is reborn

Bookish academic Diana Laughton has been having terrible dreams. Dreams of battle, dreams of blood... dreams so vivid she's living them day and night. When demons invade her quiet life, she wonders if she's going mad. Or if perhaps she's remembering a past life she had no idea existed...

In the midst of betrayal, he must protect her

Mythean Guardian Cadan Trinovante loved and betrayed Britain's warrior queen Boudica two millennia ago. Now he's tasked with protecting mortals whose lives affect the fate of humanity. His latest assignment is Boudica herself, reincarnated as a woman with no idea of her past or her fated future. Though in the irresistible form of Diana Laughton, it's possible Cadan has once again met his match...

To succumb to seduction could prove fatal

Thrown together in a shadowy world that exists alongside our own, Diana and Cadan must fight not only the demonic forces that want Diana dead, but a past and a passion that have lasted centuries. Their desire could be deadly. But as evil from the underworld unites against them, their only hope could be each other.

Available at Amazon



Book 2 Soulceress
and 



Book 3 Rogue Soul
Also Available on Amazon




Excerpt Prologue

Central England, AD 60, eve of the Roman conquest of Britain

The woman he loved lay dying in his arms. Blood spilled over her breast, trickling from the dagger she’d sunk into her chest. Drops of blood hitting the dirt floor of the stone roundhouse echoed hollowly in his ears, amplified by the dawning knowledge of what he’d done. What she’d done. What they’d done.
“Why, Boudica?” His heart and voice were breaking. “Why do this?”
She shuddered in his arms, her broken body cold and fragile with looming death, but no less fierce than when she’d fought on the field of battle the previous dawn. She was their warrior queen, the force that had drawn thousands of British Celts together to revolt against Roman occupation, and he her top general.
She was his love. The one bright spot in the miserable spectacle of blood and death his life had become.
Boudica drew a harsh breath that rattled in her wounded chest and glared at him, her eyes alight with hatred.
“Why?” It was clear she would have screamed it if she could. Another faltering breath. “After your betrayal, you ask me why?”
“Betrayal? I did it for you.”
Her bitter laugh died on a cough. “I thought you knew me. I was wrong. You only know what you think me to be. I’m a warrior, the leader and symbol of our beaten land. I led my people in battle for our lives, our homes, our freedom.” She paused to catch her breath. “But we’ve lost. Irreparably.”
His jaw clenched, his chest aching with the weight of their past and his future. For she would die this night, her future forever erased. Because of him. Because he hadn’t been able to protect her. As he hadn’t protected his village and family before he’d joined her.
“The Roman dogs are at our door.” She coughed. “My daughters dead at their hands. Our lands stolen. Why would I live when capture is inevitable and my very life will be used as leverage? My head will be on a pike in Rome before summer’s end. More likely, they’ll use me against our people.” She raked him with a scathing glance and coughed again. Blood marred her colorless lips. “What would you do, O great warrior?”
“The same.” His throat burned. Capture was inevitable. And unbearable. Now, with the final battle lost and thousands of their families and allies dying in the fields around them, the fate that awaited her at the hands of the Romans would be worse than death, not only for her, but very likely for her people as well.
He’d tried to save her from this, but she hadn’t let him. He would have committed any deed, no matter how terrible, to save the woman who’d changed his life when he’d met her a year ago. But Boudica was a warrior first, his woman second. And she would die believing he had betrayed her.
She coughed, her pallor more pronounced. “And yet you would deny me my honorable death?”
“I love you. I’d do anything to save you.”
“And I thought I loved you,” she whispered. And as her eyes closed, the enormous life force that had propelled Boudica, Celtic Queen of the Iceni, evaporated.
The crushing weight of grief squeezed the breath out of his lungs. Collapsing over her, the black night swallowed his roar of pain. He would have vengeance.

Chapter 1

Cadan Trinovante jerked awake, the sheets tangled in his fists. He ignored the vibrating phone that had awakened him from the nightmare and stared at the wide wooden rafters supporting the ceiling above him, struggling to catch his breath. Of all the memories that had faded in his two thousand years of life, the memory of Boudica’s death was the one that never had.
Guilt tugged at him and he reached for the phone.
“Cadan,” he said as he glanced at the clock on the bedside table. The gleam of Edinburgh’s streetlights shone on hands pointing toward one a.m. The yells of revelers stumbling from pub to pub filtered in through the open window.
“Cadan, it’s Warren.”
Cadan merely grunted in response and walked to the window. He listened with half an ear as he stared out at the gothic spires of Edinburgh’s churches and the soot-blackened stone of the surrounding buildings. They rose tall and narrow, pressed cheek by jowl on either side of the sloping cobblestones of the city’s oldest street. Cadan shut out the cool night air and the sound of fading revelry.
“You’ve a new assignment,” Warren said. “Can you be here in an hour?”
Finally. He needed something to keep his mind off the past. The damn dreams had been hounding him more often lately and he was ready to forget, to slip back into work.
“Aye, I’ll see you by two,” he said.
Damn it. He could still hear the revelers below. Living for so long was wearying, but listening to others take such joy in life was just salt in the wound.
In less than an hour, he strode through the great iron-sheathed wooden doors of a building on the campus of the Immortal University. The eyes of the eerie stone gargoyles who guarded the entrance followed him as he entered the cool halls of the Praesidium, named over a thousand years ago when Latin was still the language of education.
Fucking Latin. Fucking Romans.
He dragged a hand through his hair. The short drive to the outskirts of Edinburgh where the university was located hadn’t fully banished his dreams.
His footsteps were soundless on the marble floor of the wide, familiar hallway. It was a habit he’d never broken, though there was no need for stealth here. Terrible, unforgivable things happened when you let your guard down. But this was the safest place for a Mythean in Edinburgh since it was hidden from the prying eyes of mortals, who shouldn’t know of the existence of the supernatural beings who walked among them.
He pushed open the old oak door at the end of the hall and entered his friend’s office, a book-filled room lit by a small fire that smelled of autumn. Warren looked up from his cluttered desk and leaned back in his chair.
“Cadan, thanks for coming in so early.”
“No’ a problem,” Cadan said. He sank into an old leather chair across from Warren’s desk. “Who’s it this time?”
As one of the few Mythean Guardians in the world, it had been Cadan’s responsibility for nearly two millennia to protect those mortal or supernatural beings deemed important to the fate of humanity.
Warren glanced down at a rumpled piece of paper. “Looks like a Celtic warrior.”
Interesting—a man who’d been alive for as long as he. “Why’s the bloke need protecting if he’s made it this long? Destiny just revealed to him?”
And why haven’t I met him before? Though he didn’t get out much, Cadan knew, or knew of, nearly all the Mytheans in Great Britain. The ones who hadn’t gone rogue, at least.
“Well, that’s where it gets a little strange. The warrior hasn’t been alive. The soul has just been reborn.”
“A reincarnate? They’re damn rare. Doona think I’ve ever actually met one.”
“It doesn’t happen very often,” Warren said, picking up the Slinky on his desk and fiddling with it.
Why wouldn’t Warren meet his eyes? The claws of nerves crawled up Cadan’s back, little pinpricks sinking into his skin that wouldn’t shake loose. It took him off guard; he hadn’t felt that in centuries.
“I’ve spoken briefly to Aerten about it.” Warren finally glanced at him, but looked away almost immediately.
Shite.
“What does the goddess of fate have to say about it?” He hadn’t seen her in ages. Hell, he’d only seen her a few times since she’d offered him a spot in the Praesidium. Whether he should thank her or curse her was something he hadn’t figured out yet.
“That only select souls are reborn. Those who were so strong in life that their souls never left this plane.” Warren set the Slinky down. “Their souls wait in stasis until humanity needs them. At that point, they’re brought back to perform a task that only they can accomplish.”
“So, I’m going to be protecting a child who will save the world?” A cold sweat broke out on his skin. Killing and guarding adults—no’ a problem. But dealing with children was something he was entirely unqualified for after being alone for two thousand years. Fuck, what a mess.
“No’ exactly,” Warren hedged. “Apparently with Druidic reincarnation, the soul is reborn in another person, but the person doesn’t become conscious of their previous life until they reach the approximate age at which they died originally.”
“Shite, they develop split personalities?”
“Ah, no’ exactly.” He paused, seemingly unaware that he’d grabbed the Slinky again and was juggling it faster and faster. “They doona survive that long. Once they remember who they are and complete their fated task, they die.”
“Die? That’s some shite luck.”
“Aye. The tragedy that took the soul too early the first time follows it. History is destined to repeat itself, after all. You need to protect the reincarnate until the fated task is complete, longer if you can.”
That would be a challenge, but then, he liked a challenge. “Do we know what this guy’s task will be, once he regains his memory? And where is he, anyway?”
“Doona know the task, but Aerten has prophesied that a catalyzing event will spur the memory of the reincarnate and lead them to Arthur’s Seat, likely today or tomorrow. That’s where you’ll meet.” Warren hesitated before continuing, finally meeting Cadan’s eyes. “And the warrior isn’t a man.”
Cadan’s breath stuck in his throat and a chill broke out on his skin. Nay, it couldn’t be. “Who is it, Warren?”
“It’s Boudica.”


About the Author:

Linsey Hall is the author of the Mythean Arcana, a sexy paranormal romance series. Before becoming a romance novelist, Linsey was an underwater archaeologist who studied shipwrecks in all kinds of water, from the tropics to muddy rivers (and she has a distinct preference for one over the other). Her books draw upon her love of history, travel, and the paranormal elements that she can't help but include.

Several of her books may or may not feature her cats.