Showing posts with label Excerpt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Excerpt. Show all posts

Thursday, December 17, 2015

Excerpt Blitz: Thief of Lies



Title: Thief of Lies (Library Jumpers, #1)
Release date:  1/5/16
Author: Brenda Drake

About the book:

Gia Kearns would rather fight with boys than kiss them. That is, until Arik, a leather clad hottie in the Boston Athenaeum, suddenly disappears. While examining the book of world libraries he abandoned, Gia unwittingly speaks the key that sucks her and her friends into a photograph and transports them into a Paris library, where Arik and his Sentinels—magical knights charged with protecting humans from the creatures traveling across the gateway books—rescue them from a demonic hound.

Jumping into some of the world's most beautiful libraries would be a dream come true for Gia, if she weren’t busy resisting her heart or dodging an exiled wizard seeking revenge on both the Mystik and human worlds. Add a French flirt obsessed with Arik and a fling with a young wizard, and Gia must choose between her heart and her head, between Arik's world and her own, before both are destroyed.

Amazon.ca:

Author Bio

Brenda Drake, the youngest of three children, grew up an Air Force brat and the continual new kid at school. Her fondest memories growing up is of her eccentric, Irish grandmother’s animated tales, which gave her a strong love for storytelling. So it was only fitting that she would choose to write stories with a bend toward the fantastical. When Brenda’s not writing or doing the social media thing, she’s haunting libraries, bookstores, and coffee shops or reading someplace quiet and not at all exotic (much to her disappointment).


Excerpt:
I pressed the screen, and it went dark. “How do we know he’s not being forced to say this?”
                “The password, May Agnes guide you,” Lei replied. “She’s the patron saint of Asile.”
                Agnes? That was the silver woman’s name that formed from my globe. Did the saints have something to do with the Chiavi?
                I faced Ricardo. “How did you know I was here?”
                “The werehounds tracked your scent from a shirt Katy…excuse me, your nana…gave us.”
                “Can your pack help us save Couve?” Arik asked him.
                “They will, but Gia must go with me.” He noticed the protest forming on my lips. “Merlin said no exceptions. I’m to get you to the shelter.”
                From the corridor came yells, scuffles, and the continual wail of the warning siren.
                “I can’t go with you,” I said. “I have to fight with them.”
                “She can’t fight with us,” Lei said, glancing at the door. “She almost killed Kale.”
                I turned to Sinead. “You know what I can do.”
                Sinead gave me a pity smile. “Yes, but you have no control over it. Let Ricardo take you to your father and friends.”
                I thought of Kale lying motionless, near death, and I hated that she was right. As much as I wanted to stay, I might be more hindrance than help. I caved. “Okay,” I said, defeated. Lei flew out of the room with the Laniars on her heels.
                Sinead hugged me, then rushed after them. Arik moved over to me and cupped my face gently in his hands. His eyes held the intensity that always drew me to him.
                I swallowed my breath in anticipation. All the sounds around us went silent.
                He bent and lightly brushed my lips with a kiss. His lips were soft and oh, so tender. Butterflies swooped and curled inside me, and it felt like the ground disappeared from beneath my feet. He pulled back a little and said, “Regardless of the fact that you’re a royal pain in the arse, I fancy you. Listen to Ricardo and don’t do anything rash.”
                He gave me another kiss and rushed out the door. My heart twisted in my chest as he disappeared. I touched my mouth and exhaled. He liked me. It was against the laws, but he told me he fancied me. Maybe we had no future, but we had now.
                “What a sweet display,” Ricardo said, dragging me out of my haze. “I’m not one for rules or laws, but I’d be careful there. The punishment would be much worse for him than you.”
                “Why?” I stared at the door as if I’d see Arik there.
                “He’s a leader. He knows better.” Ricardo headed to the window. “Are you ready to fly?”

                “Did you say fly?”

Thursday, December 10, 2015

Promo: Feel the Burn



Enter to Win a Paperback 
Copy of FEEL THE BURN


FEEL THE BURN
Dragon Kin #8
G.A. Aiken
Released Nov 24th, 2015
Zebra Imprint


War makes strange bedfellows.

I, Gaius Domitus, one-eyed rebel dragon king of the Provinces, know that better than most, since I have to fight off half my ungrateful family on a regular basis to keep law and order here in my lands. But I never expected to have to consort with a barbarian human woman.

Kachka is beautiful, if you like them fierce—and of course I do. But she keeps complaining about how spoiled and decadent I am, and how a feared Daughter of the Steppes has no time for foolish dragons. I think she likes my eye patch, though. It is quite dashing. With death always at our tails, we take our passion like we take our allies. As they say, love the barbarian you’re with…

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Excerpt
The Mad Queen of Garbhán Isle’s scream of rage echoed out over the silent valley, sending birds from trees and small animals deeper into their burrows.
Her rage was a horrifying wonder to behold because it was always so raw. So unmistakably vicious. Truly, there was nothing more terrifying than to see that rage directed at an individual or full army. But, at the moment, there was no individual or army for the queen to direct her rage at. They were long gone.
Thankfully, the queen did not redirect her anger toward those closest to her. That was why they all willingly fought by her side. Because as mad as the queen might be, she was never wantonly cruel.
One of the few beings willing to try to reason with the queen when she was in a rage moved her mare closer. The female wasn’t human, although she was currently in her exquisite human form. No. She was a She-dragon. Her long white hair draped over the entire backside of her horse, her sharp blue eyes aware of everything around her. Yet if you didn’t know the truth about her, you wouldn’t guess that under that slim bit of human flesh rested a large white dragon that could render a man in pieces with one swipe of her claw.
“Annwyl?” she called out. “Annwyl?” she tried again.
But the queen couldn’t hear her or anyone. She was too busy beating the trunk of a tree with one of her swords. It wasn’t helping, though. The action wasn’t wearing her out. If anything, it was just making her more pissed off.
The She-dragon glanced back at the squad of soldiers. She seemed embarrassed. Her pale cheeks turning red. But they were the Queen’s Personal Guard. They understood Annwyl the Bloody better than anyone. They saw her in battle. They saw her in quiet times. They saw her at her worst and best. The only one who knew her better than her personal guard? Her mate, the black dragon, Fearghus the Destroyer.
“Annwyl, this isn’t helping.”
The queen slammed her blade into the ground and rested her hands on her hips, her head down, her breath coming out in hard pants.
“I know that,” the queen finally barked at the white Shedragon. “Don’t you think I know that?”
“I think they were looking for something,” their general announced as he walked away from the remains of the temple.
General Brastias was a hero of many wars and in charge of Annwyl’s armies. He could, like many generals before him, send men out to do this sort of thing while enjoying the comfort and safety of Garbhán Isle, the seat of power of the Southlands. But his continuing loyalty to Annwyl and the She-dragon, Morfyd the White, was so very strong that he still rode with them on missions like this.
Morfyd—one of the Dragon Queen’s offspring, so actually a princess—looked down at her mate, her hand brushing her horse’s neck to soothe its tension. “Looking for what?” she asked Brastias.
“I have no idea, but the interior has been torn apart.”
“Perhaps they were just leaving a message.”
“No.” Annwyl shook her head. “They want something.”
“Annwyl, they’ve been destroying temples for months now. Let’s not make this into some kind of crazy conspiracy when they’re simply trying to damage your reputation among your people.”
“It’s more than that. I know it is.” Annwyl yanked her blade out of the ground and slammed it back into the empty sheath she had strapped to her back. “None of this is working,” she complained, stomping toward her battle horse, Bloodletting. “They’re always ahead of us because we have no idea what they plan to do next.”
“So what do you suggest? We already have spies—”
Annwyl grunted. Not because she was mounting that vicious stallion of hers, but because she didn’t want to hear anything else from anyone.
“I don’t want to hear about Dagmar’s and Keita’s legions of spies. This isn’t about politics, Morfyd. This isn’t about propaganda. This is something else.”
She looked over the remains of the burned temple, greengrey eyes glaring out from under thick light brown hair. “I’m tired of this, Morfyd.”
“Annwyl—”
“I’m tired of this.”
“Don’t do anything stupid.”
Another grunt as Annwyl turned her horse around. “Give them proper death rites,” she ordered, motioning to the temple priests, who’d been tortured before they’d been killed. The cult that did this torture and murder called it “purifying.” It was reserved for those who refused to join them in their devotion to the god called The Eyeless One, Chramnesind. “Then burn the bodies.”
“What are you going to—?”
But Annwyl and her horse had already charged off. Brastias nodded at a few of the men, those who’d ridden longest with Annwyl and were already well-acquainted with her bouts of rage, silently ordering them to follow their queen. Not to keep her safe . . . but to protect anyone unfortunate enough to cross her path. Especially since the queen didn’t look or act like a royal. In this state, it was easy for her to misinterpret a small argument between farmers as some kind of rebel attack.
“What if she’s right?” Brastias asked his mate while the rest of the men dismounted and went to work. “What if this isn’t about simply making her look bad?”
The She-dragon shrugged deceptively slim shoulders.
“Then the gods help us all if they find whatever they’re looking for before we do.”



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Originally from Long Island, New York Times bestselling author G.A. Aiken has resigned herself to West Coast living, which involves healthy food, mostly sunny days, and lots of guys not wearing shirts when they really should be. Writing as Shelly Laurenston, she is also the creator of the wickedly funny Pride series for Brava. For more info about G.A. Aiken’s dangerously and arrogantly sexy dragons, go to www.gaaiken.com.





Thursday, October 29, 2015

Spotlight: The Demon's Grave


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Title:  The Demon’s Grave
Series:  The Demon’s Grave #1
Author:  E.M. MacCallum
Published:  June 2015
Genre:  Urban Fantasy
Recommended Age:  16+

Synopsis:  

When strange shadows and messages plague Nora’s daily life she fears for her sanity. To escape questions from her family, Nora joins her friends on a weekend getaway. Despite not liking Aidan Birket, Nora finds his remote, Victorian house charming. Until they discover the marble doorway on the third floor and, against Nora’s better judgment, they open it.

Trespassing into an unfamiliar world called the Demon’s Grave, the group face a charismatic demon and six nightmarish Challenges as punishment. Those that make it to the end can go home, but those that don’t will be his forever. Friendships are tested, secrets revealed and sacrifices will be made.

Nora battles zombies, doppelgängers, eyeless bikers, and the demon—whose interests are more than just a game of cat and mouse. If it’s all in her head, then it should be easy. But, if not, it means the demon knows about her sticky past, and the death of her twin sister.

Read FREE with Kindle Unlimited


Excerpt from The Demon’s Grave by E.M. MacCallum:

“Aidan,” I insisted in a whisper.

A few car lengths north of the Chevy a stereo crackled to life. An echoing voice sang followed by a choir of voices that doo de doo’ed in the background. The slow song sounded like something from the 1950's.

Read and I exchanged a curious glance as the echoing main voice mentioned a game. Read pulled his hand from mine and we both wiped our slick palms on our jeans.

“What is it?” I asked Aidan. “What should we be looking for?”

He didn’t answer, his eyes kept wandering to the cars then down the street and to the motorbikes.

Read’s shoulders sagged, exasperated. He looked ready to say something when the roar of an engine smothered the music as well as my yelp. It stopped Read cold.

Aidan jumped and grabbed my arm as if I were the one to save him.

Craning my neck to see if there was a single vehicle taking up the roadway, I saw none. It had been so loud I couldn’t pinpoint the direction it came from.

The music began to take over the street once more, a new song erupting from the crackling speakers.

Between shallow breaths, Aidan said, “come on.”

Before Read or I could question him, Aidan stood up and started in long, purposeful strides, the kind that was harder to stop.

Read nudged me to move, or rather shoved me. Panicked, we hurried to Aidan. Looking to him, our pace quickened to keep up. Aidan stared straight ahead. His lean figure was rigid, but he hadn’t slowed.

Keeping close to the buildings, we passed the occupied car playing music. I could see three teenage boys inside. The muffled vintage music carried through the window.

I felt the scream choke in my throat as we passed. The passengers didn’t have eyes.

Their shapeless pale faces lacked not only the eyes but also mouths. The skin where lips should be had stretched horizontally, sealing any opening. The only portion of their faces that was noticeable was the lump of their nose—without nostrils. Even their hair was all the same color, styled the same, with a part in the middle, and they wore the same collared shirt and slacks.

I thought to myself, it’s just a few of the faceless, nameless people of this city, like any other...right? Maybe the demon had a sense of sick, very sick, humor.
I could hear, the eerie chorus of voices within the car, making it all the more surreal.

The three boys in the car watched us pass, as is if they could see. They turned their heads as we hurried along and I found myself staring back for as long as I could.


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About the Author:

E.M. loves long walks through bookstores, Disney, horror movies/books, anything supernatural, and researching random facts. She lives by a lake out in the Canadian wilderness with internet access, her husband and rag-tag band of pets.

Giveaway Details:
There is a tour wide giveaway. Prizes include the following:
  • GRAND PRIZE is a $25 Amazon gift card and an ecopy of The Demon’s Grave.

Giveaway is International. a Rafflecopter giveaway
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Wednesday, October 21, 2015

Spotlight: Something Wicked This Way Comes


Something Wicked This Way Comes
Jenika Snow

A Wicked Tale
ARe Books

Genre: M/F, Werewolves, Vampires, PNR

About the Book

Being wicked never felt so good.

Born from hate and violence, Lathan knows all too well what darkness feels like. He’s centuries old, and an abomination to the supernatural world. With a vampire father who forcibly took Lathan’s werewolf mother as his own, Lathan’s hybrid genetics make him feared by all.

Abbi has no one, nothing of importance in her life, but that doesn’t stop her from living. When Lathan feeds on her and tries to use compulsion to make her forget, she realizes he isn’t just a vampire, but something altogether different. He’s also her mate.

Can Abbi accept Lathan for who and what he is? Can she allow herself to be mated to a man who is half vampire and half werewolf, one feared amongst human and immortal alike? She knows he won’t stop until he has her.


Available at ARe



Excerpt:

Lathan was born of this world in blood, hatred…violence. He took his first breath with his mother’s arms around him, her tears of sadness, hurt, disgust, filling him. It was the only world, the only emotions he’d ever known. And it was that memory, even as he lay there vulnerable—unable to speak, barely able to breathe—that he watched his mother pass. It was a curse being able to remember every single memory of his life, a “gift” because of his hybrid breed, his dual species genetics.

He stood in the shadows, his hunger insatiable. He watched the humans, knew their blood—the sustenance that gave him life, gave him strength and power—was also the same viscous fluid that disgusted him.

He was half vampire, half werewolf, a demon among his kind, an abomination because of the two bloodlines running through his veins and of how he came into this world. His werewolf mother was kidnapped and raped by his vampire father, a male that claimed she was his mate. But Lathan’s father hadn’t cared about anyone but himself. He’d defiled the one woman that was claimed to be his mate, took her from Lathan because he was a selfish bastard.

It was because of his father he didn’t have a memory that wasn’t tainted with violence and degradation. It was because of his father, Karloff, that Lathan couldn’t show his face in the paranormal community without fear and disgust following him, because everyone knew who he was. The stench of his father’s blood ran through his veins, tainting him, marking him as evil. Karloff’s reputation was by far the most sinister of their kind, was tainted with the horror of the life he himself led, and of the lives he took.

Maybe Lathan should have had more empathy for the man that sired him, the man that forced his seed upon Lathan’s unwilling mother. But the truth was after three hundred years of living in this world alone, Lathan had no empathy for anyone or anything. He had no emotions, no expectations, or even hope that he’d find a mate, if one even existed.

But he’d killed his father a century ago—ripped open his throat, bathed in his blood—sand knew that killing the man that had raped Lathan’s mother, took from her everything she knew and loved, was a small act of vengeance on his part. It wouldn’t solve anything, wouldn’t make anyone see him as anything more than a monster, but it made Lathan feel a little less dark inside.

He moved back into the shadows even further when a young, beautiful, and unsuspecting woman started walking toward him. She was human, with long reddish brown hair, and eyes the color of the greenest emerald. She was slender, couldn’t be more than in her twenties, and the animal in him—the wolf, the demon he was—rose up. He wanted to taste her, wanted her blood to coat his tongue and move along the back of his throat. He’d never been this thirsty before.

But it could be because he’d held off feeding for the last couple weeks, hating to taste the metallic flavor of the substance that gave him life. Lathan wanted her blood, wanted it covering his mouth and dripping down his chin.
His vampire side felt the call of the blood, felt the power move through him, strengthening his muscles, making his body coil tight, ready to snatch her body to his, tilt her neck to the side, and expose the creamy expanse of her throat.

And then she was right here, the wind picking up and blowing her hair around her shoulders, having her scent slam into him. His dick got hard, his claws emerged, and his fangs punched forward. He hadn’t been this excited, hadn’t been this aroused in his entire existence.
~

About the Author:

Jenika Snow is a USA Today bestselling author, a mother, wife, and nurse.  She lives in northeast with her husband and their two daughters.

Jenika started writing at a very young age. Her first story consisted of a young girl who traveled to an exotic island and found a magical doll. That story as long since disappeared, but others have taken its place.

She loves to hear from readers, and encourages them to contact her and give their feedback.


For more information on other books by Jenika, visit her website: www.jenikasnow.com



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Friday, October 16, 2015

Book Blitz: Chrysocolla


Title: Chrysocolla (Book 4 of The Chalcedony Chronicles)

Author: B. Kristen McMichaels

Genre: Fantasy/Romance/Time Travel/YA/Clean NA

Hosted by: Lady Amber's Tours
Blurb: 

Mari’s travels have finally brought her home. First she found her father, and then just like every child’s dream that lost a parent when they were young, she even got to reunite her mother and father. Everything is perfect and just as it always should have been, except for one little detail: Kye. Kye had made it clear that for the future to be correct, things should be different. They aren’t. Now Mari is left to try to find out how to beat Logan without really knowing how to play the game. Making it home wasn’t the end, but just the beginning of her struggles.      


Logan has not given up hope of winning over Mari. She might not want to be with him, but it isn’t beyond him to do anything to keep her to himself. Logan cares for no one but her, and he is prepared to do anything to keep her. Mari doesn’t agree with his feelings and can’t wait to be rid of him, once she figures out how. Every time she feels they are getting ahead, Logan finds another way to ruin it. It’s a race to see who can come out on top. Can Mari outlast Logan? Can Mari find a way to make sure her future is the one she wants?





B. Kristin McMichael is the author of YA and clean NA paranormal fiction. Her vampiric "Night Human World" includes the YA coming of age series "The Blue Eyes Trilogy" and the spin-off adventure series "The Day Human Trilogy". She's also the author of the NA time travel romance series "The Chalcedony Chronicles".
The Blue Eyes Trilogy: http://bkmc.me/LegendoftheBlueEyes
The Day Human Trilogy: http://bkmc.me/DayHumanPrince
The Chalcedony Chronicles: http://bkmc.me/Book1Carnelian
For more information on all of her books, visit http://www.bkristinmcmichael.com
Subscribe to her mailing list for new release notifications and deals: http://www.bkristinmcmichael.com/list
B. Kristin graduated with her PhD in biology at Ohio State where she worked as a scientist before taking her passion of writing full-time. Besides writing, she enjoys chasing her kids, playing outside, and baking cookies.
B. Kristin McMichael lives in Ohio with her husband and three children.
Author Links:
Buy Links: Chrysocolla
Coming soon to:
Person after person approached me to touch my hand and mumble some sort of greeting. I wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, but just played along since my father and Seth both seemed to understand. The crowd around me pressed tightly as more people tried to touch my hand. I got the feeling they understood I wasn’t going to stand around all night doing it, and would walk away as soon as I could.

“Don’t think this changes anything,” a way-too-familiar voice said into my ear. My heart beat faster, and I didn’t want to turn and confirm what I already knew. Logan was in my father’s palace. “You will still be mine. I can see our son is still here, and that’s all I need to know. This changes nothing. Once I find the last stone, I’ll be coming for you and there will be nothing your father can do to stop me.”

I turned to fire a retort at him even though I had no clue what I was going to say. He backed up and flashed me one of his model Logan smiles before fading among the guests who were still trying to touch me. I stared dumbfounded and watched him go.

Coming to my senses, I looked around the room to see if I could see the rest of my family and friends. The mob was too tight, and I just wasn’t tall enough. I dropped my hand and began to push through the mass of people to where my father and mother were. Everyone parted and allowed me through. Seth came out of the crowd also just as easily as I had. When I reached my parents, my father bent down and touched his forehead to mine.

“I’m so happy you returned to us,” he told me.

My mother beamed from beside him. They were beyond happy. This was probably the day they both had been waiting their whole lives for. I couldn’t ruin it by telling them about Logan. I’d have to wait and talk to Kye. This was their wedding day, and they deserved to have it without worry. Even with everything, I was happy to be there with them.

I looked around the hall of people. Once I reached my father, everyone took that as their cue to go back to their little groups and enjoy the night. Seth waited just below us on the stairs as he watched me. I wanted to decipher his smile, but I was too worried now about Logan. I scanned the crowd and my father’s words rung way too true in my head. I was happy to have returned to him, but unfortunately, I wasn’t the only one who returned.


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