Realm of Dragons: Fight for the Crown by L.C. Conn

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This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. L.C. Conn will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

The Realm of Dragons is in peril from hidden plots and conspirators, which threaten not only the crown, but the dragons that are at the very heart of it.

Teagan Loinsigh, long ago banished from her magical home of dragons now lives on Earth. Her dreams and memories of the great creatures are put down to fantasies and an overactive imagination, until one day she comes across a creature so unlike any other in the land she lives in. A baby dragon.

Muniath Magaoidh, a Dragon Warden fallen so low by a failed mission, must be brought back from his despair to retrieve what is lost.

Scetis Mordha, alone in the world since he was a child. Finds himself in the middle of intrigue and conspiracy against The Realm of Dragons.

Tying them all together is a dragon. Not just a dragon but The King of Dragons.

Can these four save The Realm of Dragons?

Read an Excerpt

“I don’t understand, what do you want to do?” she asked, collapsing to the hot rock.

“Stand before the fiery pit. Face your fear and grow into who you were meant to be.” His voice boomed not only in her mind but echoed off the circular cavern.

“I’ll die,” she whimpered.

“No, you will not. Now stand,” he commanded.

Slowly she got to her feet. Sweat dripped from her body in rivulets, stinging her eyes as she wiped her face on her sleeve to clear it. As she did, Gremlin moved and the full heat from the lava hit her. She stumbled back, but he supported her with his neck, holding her up. The fiery liquid turned her skin first red, then it started to blister. Teagan screamed at the pain and with fumbling fingers began to tear at the remaining clothes she had on. Now standing nude, her body shook as the outer skin burned away. It melted from her body, slipping, and exposing raw flesh underneath. A scream she so desperately wanted to release caught in her throat.

“Into the lake.” Gremlin commanded.

Each step she took was laboured. She tried to stop herself but found her body would not respond. Her mind screamed at the thought of the agony and death that she was sure awaited if she obeyed the Dragon King. But she went. Standing on the precipice, in a gap of the wall, the scream at last escaped her lips as she stepped down into the rock from the centre of the world.

About the Author:
L.C. Conn grew up on the outskirts of Upper Hutt, New Zealand. Her backyard encompassed the surrounding farmland, river, hills and mountains which she wandered with her brothers and fed her imagination. After discovering a love for writing in English class at the age of eight, she continued to write in secret. It was not until much later in life that L.C. turned what she thought was a hobby and something fun to do, into her first completed novel. Now married, L.C. moved from New Zealand to Perth, Western Australia, and became a stay at home mum. While caring for her family and after battling breast cancer, a story was born from the kernel of a dream. The first book of The One True Child Series was begun, and just kept blooming into seven completed stories, which have garnered great reviews. She continues her career with more stories waiting in the wings to be released.

EMAIL: raindropc1970@gmail.com
FACEBOOK: http://www.facebook.com/LCConn
TWITTER: https://twitter.com/ConnLoraine
INSTAGRAM: https//www.instagram.com/l.c.conn
WEB PAGE: https//lcconnwriter.wordpress.com/
GOODREADS: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17714374.L_C_Conn

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Amazon Buy Link

Tiger Stripes by Hannah Renae

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This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Hannah Renae will be awarding a $100 Amazon GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Four psychiatric wards

Three rehabs

Two jail cells

And a suicide attempt…

Hannah was told she would not make it to 25 with the way she was living. She had struggled with mental illness her entire life, but at 22 her demons came to a head at the grips of severe substance abuse, life-changing trauma, and two major deaths in her life.

Hannah’s struggles land her places no one ever hopes to grace; jail and psych wards lead her to the brink of death. Running out of options she’s left with two choices: live or die. This heart-wrenching memoir combines recovery with bittersweet romance told in a raw presentation that immerses the reader into the author’s dark state-of-mind in every page.

Tiger Stripes is going to add a valuable voice to the conversation about women’s mental health issues.


Read an Excerpt

THE LETTER H

October 7, 2019

“HENRY! HENRY! HENNN-RYYYY!!!!”

I am screaming at the top of my lungs and can feel my throat tearing, becoming raw. I don’t know how many times I have said his name now, but it is all I know how to do because nothing is making any sense.

I am in a locked room and flashes of images are going through my head, but there is only one thing, one thought that I can focus on, that is pounding through my brain throughout this confusion and that is pouring out of my lungs to the point that my chest feels like it is going to rip.

“HENRY!” I choke on his name and a sob.

He cannot hear me, and he is not coming. He doesn’t know where I am and I don’t know where I am, but I know I am not supposed to be here—and I have to get out.

I beat at the metal door that barricades me from something unknown and choke on words that begin with H.

“HENRY!”

“HELP!”

“HENRY!”

“HELP!”

I repeat these words for what feels like a lifetime, until I forget how to speak and my begging turns to carnal screaming—shrieking.

No one comes. No one answers. I wait for footsteps, for the sound of the door unlocking, but all I can hear is the sound of my frantic breaths and the echoes of a lamentation that is anything but human.

I look down at my body. My feet are bare against the concrete floor; I cannot feel them. The jean shorts I am wearing show off my slender, scratched legs and remind me that I am small and feeble at this moment, but in an act of desperation, I put all of my faith in the power of momentum and I run. I fucking run as fast as I can from the three paces it takes to get from the wall to the ominous looming, locked door and attack it with my entire being, letting out my most vicious battle cry as I fumble towards it.

The door wins.

I try again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

I am degraded to a crumbling, bruised ball of flesh.

I can barely speak, my throat reduced to sandpaper.

Everything hurts and I can taste the bitterness of blood in my mouth. The floor is like ice against my bare legs. Through the tears in my eyes I see the moon shining through a window at the top of the room. It is full and brilliant and illuminates the white of the brick walls that surround me. I realize that there is writing on them. People have been here before me. People will be here after me. Why am I here though? I should not be.

I should be home, where I belong. In bed, with him. Safe. I feel anything but that word in this moment, as terror sweeps through every single one of my nerves.

I whisper in one last futile attempt:

“Henry?”

But there is silence. Horrible, deafening, fatal silence.

And it seems to last forever, until I hear it, or think I do. A click, the door unlocking, and the small room is suddenly filled with light. Fluorescence suffocates me.

When I dare to open my eyes, they do not find Henry. Instead I find a police officer looking back at me. He wears broad, black framed glasses that are too big for his face and he looks eerily familiar. A sudden memory of lying in a hospital bed comes to me but does not fully resonate. His face is forlorn and almost disappointed, as if he expected more out of me.

“I thought you were going to hurt yourself,” he tells me. “Promise you’ll stay calm and you can come out for a bit. We’ve got to get you fingerprinted.”

It’s then that I have the shattering realization that I am drunk and in a holding cell at a police station. The reason why escapes me though, as I try to grab onto flashes of sober memories but drown in my current state-of-mind.

I try to breathe with intent as I remember every single arrest-cliché in the book, and I cling to the fact that I am going to get my phone call. They will probably let me go—they have to. If anything, they will make me stay the night at the most.

I remember the silent promise I had once made myself—that the moment I got a DUI that I would put down the bottle for good. Jail was the worst it could get. It had been my crowning achievement at my last three rehabs that I had never graced the inside of a jail cell and I never planned to.

“Continue down the path you have been,” one of the staff members at my second treatment center had told me after sharing her own story about prison, “and jail is a guarantee.”

And here I am. Her words have come to pass, as promised.

I then remember what else she told me as we talked over a pack of Marlboro Reds on a warm Orange County night.

“Finish the 90 days,” she had said, “Or you will not make it and there will come a day where you will no longer be able to cry out ‘I’m a good person!’. You will lie. You will steal. You will become someone and something else. You will hurt everyone you love. You will lose everything, and just when you think you have lost it all, you will lose something else.”

About the Author:
If there is anything Hannah believes in, it’s hope, but that wasn’t always the case. For a long time, chaos was comfortable for Hannah, but at just 22 she would have to make her hardest decision yet: was life really worth living? Since picking up a pen Hannah has had a love for writing, and as an adult it would become her greatest tool in healing from an almost decade-long battle with severe mental illness and substance abuse. Her first book, Tiger Stripes, is a harrowing, raw telling of her year in and out of hospitals, treatment centers, and jail that finally led her on the road to recovery and freedom.

Hannah was born in Orange County, CA but has lived in the Los Angeles area for several years. She now lives in West L.A. with her boyfriend. When she is not writing she can be found reading, running, cooking, or finding the best vegan eats in L.A.!

Website – http://hannahrenaeauthor.com/
Twitter – https://twitter.com/byhannahrenae
Instagram – https://www.instagram.com/hannahrenae/
Pinterest – https://www.pinterest.com/hurnpublications/tiger-stripes/
Book Landing Page – https://hurnpublications.com/tiger-stripes/

Buy Links:

Amazon – https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08WM2S9Y2/ref=as_li_tl
BN – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/tiger-stripes-hannah-renae/1138814034?ean=9781736450901
Kobo – https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/tiger-stripes
Apple Books – https://books.apple.com/us/book/tiger-stripes/id1553383519
TBD – https://www.bookdepository.com/Tiger-Stripes-Hannah-Renae/9781736450901
Indigo – https://www.chapters.indigo.ca/en-ca/books/tiger-stripes-a-memoir/9781736450918-item.html

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St. Michael’s Mount

Pink Fuzzy Slippers Authors

St. Michael’s Mount is a tidal island in Mount’s Bay in Cornwall, U.K. I was lucky enough to visit the Karrak Loos yn Koos,  Cornish for “hoar rock in woodland”, on my honeymoon back before recorded time. Seriously, it was last century. I immediately fell in love with this small island accessible only by a manmade causeway, passable only between mid-tide and low tide. This causeway is made of granite setts. Two types of granite can be found on the Mount.  These are a tourmaline muscovite and a biotite muscovite. I’m not a geologist. Wiki, my friends. The island is a civil parish and linked by the causeway to the town of Marazion.

While the National Trust now guarantees the preservation and conservation of theMount, theStAubyn family continue to live on and manage the island, as they have done since the middle of the 17th century.

St Aubyn Estates…

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Forging Monsters by Annie James

Today we’re in for a real treat.  As her guest post, Annie has shared her short story Brooklyn Rose.  I’m posting a portion of the story today and will post the remainder tomorrow, so be sure to check back and see how Rose’s and Henry’s story ends!!

Brooklyn Rose

 The Past

The year was 1959. Sixteen-year-old Henry Walsh walked into the crowded gymnasium holding the manicured hand of his date, Erica Astor. He pasted on a bright smile and did his best to look like he was having fun. Erica smiled back at him, showing that he had fooled her. Henry took a small flask out of the pocket of his blazer. Erica frowned at him.

“I wish you wouldn’t drink,” she said, her tone icy.

Henry shrugged. “I’ll take my fun while I can get it,” He thought. “By this time next year, I will be enrolled in NYU business school and embark on the life my father chose for me. Which includes you,”

He glanced at the beautiful blond Erica at his side. Her hair was platinum blond, and she had light blue eyes, giving her an icy, untouchable appearance. Erica reminded Henry of an expensive vase, made to be admired but brittle and uninviting to touch.

She batted her long eyelashes at him. Henry let none of his thoughts show on his face, only allowing Erica to see the aloof aristocrat that she wanted to see.

 “My father has arranged my entire life for me, even choosing my future wife. I don’t love Erica, but my father has assured me that I will grow to love her.”

“Henry, you made it!” A voice called his name. He looked around to see his friend Charles approaching. Henry gave him a friendly slap on the back. Charles attended the same private school, and they both had the emblem of the school embroidered on each of their blazers. “This is my date, Erica Astor,” Henry said.

“Charmed,” Erica said, gripping Charles’s hand with her fingertips.

“Nice to meet you, Erica. This is my date, Rosanna.”

Henry’s false smile faded. Beautiful was too weak of a word for her.

Ethereal.

But strong. Rose’s eyes were green, like the ocean. Her high cheekbones and sculpted face gave her an exotic appearance. Henry had always thought Erica was beautiful, but suddenly she faded to spun sugar’s insignificance, lovely in form but with no substance.

“Nice to meet you, Rosanna,” Henry said, his voice roughened by the lump in his throat. He brought her offered hand to his lips and kissed it. Rosanna smiled and blushed prettily. It seemed to Henry like time had slowed down, and it was just the two of them in the world.

“Well, it was nice seeing you, Henry,” Charles said with an edge to his tone. “The music is starting.” Charles wrapped Rosanna’s arm in his possessively and turned to walk away.

“Save me a dance, dear Rose,” Henry called, ignoring Erica’s outraged gasp. Rose turned to look back at him with eyes sparkling and graced him with a dimpled grin that made Henry’s heart soar.

She nodded, and then she and Charles vanished into the crowd of dancers.

Later, after a few dances with Erica, Henry found the other couple and cut in just as the band was beginning to play the song ‘Mack the Knife’ by Bobby Darin. As Henry led her through the swing steps, he was pleased to see that she was a skilled dancer. Rose was close to his height, so they were well matched. Erica was several inches shorter than him, so it wasn’t as fun to dance with her. Henry and Rose danced several more dances before they were breathless.

“That was so much fun,” Henry said. “Are you ready for a break and some punch?”

“Yes. I had fun, though; you are a wonderful dancer, Henry.”

Henry admired how her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes sparkled. Her red hair was cut short in a trendy bob that had swirled around her head as they danced, glinting with the reflected lights in the ceiling.

“Your hair is gorgeous. Not every girl is good looking enough to wear it short, but it suits you,”

“Thank you,” Rose replied.

It seemed like the most natural action in the world for him to slip his arm around Rose, pulling her closer as they made their way to the refreshment table. Until he caught sight of his friend Charles, Erica, right beside him, they were watching him with eyes as hard as wet stones.

Later that night, Henry whispered in Rose’s ear, “I want to see you again. May I have your phone number?” Rose gave it to him.

The night of their first date, Henry stood in front of the mirror in his bathroom, taking extra care with his appearance. He added a little extra pomade to make his wavy blonde hair glossy. Henry hadn’t slept well the night before, and his blue eyes looked slightly bloodshot, so he put a couple of drops of Visine in each one.

Henry picked up Rose on his motorcycle, where they could both wear helmets and be unrecognizable. When Henry walked into his home after dropping Rose off after their second date, his father Phillip was sitting on the couch waiting for him.

[TO BE COTNIED TOMORROW, APRIL 3rd]

~*~

Book #2 of The Tales of OriGen series

Description:

A modern and beautiful Frankenstein’s Monster fights for the right to carve her destiny in New York City’s human world.

 A talented young dancer tired of witnessing violent crimes against women go unpunished and takes matters into her own hands.

 A young woman tries to escape her past in New York’s anonymity but finds out that she cannot escape the scars on her soul, which drives her to shocking acts of violence.

Excerpt from Forging Monsters

“Sometimes human places create inhuman monsters.”

–Stephen King, The Shining

The path through the park wound around to a footbridge spanning a little pond. She stopped to gaze into the water; the lilacs were in full bloom, and they perfumed the air. A light breeze created small ripples on the water, which had a green shade, but it was not scummy. A tiny frog let out a surprised ribbet and splashed into the water, causing Zee to smile.

She recalled how she never saw frogs, grass, or trees as a child–suddenly, her memory returned to OriGen Research Facility. In her mind, Zee again saw the room that had been her prison for most of her early life. She mentally shook herself, pushing those memories away.

That is in the past, and I’m free now, she reminded herself. She leaned her head back and savored the wind on her face. Not entirely free, though, she thought.

She turned away from the pond and continued along the path. She heard pounding footsteps approaching rapidly from behind. She hadn’t realized she was being followed. Before she could fully react, a muscular arm was locked around her throat and dragged under the bridge. The shoes fell from her fingers as she grabbed the arm around her neck, struggling to get free.

He threw her down at the edge of the pond, the impact knocking her breath from her lungs. She was partially in the water, and it seeped into her dress while sharp, cold rocks cut her back.  She could see his face and recognized him as the guy from outside the club. He used his shoulders and his body weight to pin her legs against her body as he unzipped his pants.

“NO! Please don’t do this!” She struggled, but he just laughed, spewing beer-laden breath in her face. Under the alcohol smell on his breath was another, more elusive scent: a mixture of salt, metal, and rotting vegetables; it made her nauseous and angry.

“Get off me!”

He slapped her.

Her lip split, and she tasted blood.

“Shut up bitch!”

He continued to try raping her as she struggled. Her pulse quickened with rage. He didn’t stop.

 Enough, she thought–becoming eerily calm. He thought she had given up. He laughed again.

She bared her teeth. “My name isn’t bitch. It’s Ze’Eva.”

She flung him off quickly, flipped him on his back, and slammed him to the ground. He lay there for a couple of seconds, shocked at the sudden turn-off events. He jumped up and reached to grab her again, thinking she just got lucky in throwing him off. He froze as he saw her teeth elongate into fangs, and her eyes turn from green to amber.

Book Trailer

Buy Link

About Author

I am a mom, cat mom, grandma, wife, writer, coffee drinker.

I currently live in Kentucky with my husband and two fun-loving cats who inspired Dirtbag and Scumbucket’s feline characters. (Those are just nicknames, we do love them!)

Write what you know! I was born and raised in Upstate New York, so that area and New York City are the settings for most of my stories.

I have an Administrative Assistant degree from Fingerlakes Community College in Upstate NY; I majored in writing and business administration.

I love cooking, especially Cajun food, and I’ve had several people tell me I should open a restaurant, but that is ton of work, and I would rather spend my time writing.

 

Ellerslie by William Francis

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This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. William Francis will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Did you know author F. Scott Fitzgerald and his wife Zelda lived in a haunted house?

It’s the Jazz Age, it’s Prohibition and aviator Charles Lindbergh is the most famous person in America. Author F. Scott Fitzgerald rents a mansion in Edgemoor, Delaware called Ellerslie hoping for a quiet retreat so that he can write his next novel following The Great Gatsby.

April Ross, the first and only female history major at the University of Delaware, is commissioned by the owner of Ellerslie to research the estate’s history for a potential sale. At least, that’s what April is told. In the days ahead, April’s historical research uncovers Ellerslie’s former owners dating back to 1810. She interacts with the Fitzgeralds, yet endures unexplained occurrences and visits by an unknown woman. Against her better judgement, April eventually accepts that the woman is a ghost and realizes that her true purpose is to find out who this woman is, or was, and what happened to her in real life.

Read an Excerpt

“I don’t know,” Scott said, lifting his glass of gin, his bowl of stew untouched. “I’m just so sick and tired of hearing about Charles Lindbergh. They report everything he says and does.”

Zelda spooned her stew and turned serious. “I’m sorry, Fitz. I know you’re upset about the latest sales figures for Gatsby. I should’ve been more receptive to your feelings when you told me.”

Scott took another sip. “I blame the title. I told you I hated the title.” He mimicked sarcasm. “The Great Gatsby. Rather pretentious, don’t you think? And what’s so great about him? He’s a sick symbol of today’s greed and self-absorption. Who needs to read a story about a man who epitomizes what we see in everyday society?”

“You know,” Zelda said, “I think those journalists who are coverin’ Lindbergh would better serve the public if they examined the disgusting tastes of American readers. They need to explain to me why dime novelists like Zane Grey are making a fortune while respectable writers like you, Fitz, are not.”

April appreciated seeing Zelda act kindly to her husband, but she wondered how long it would last.

“My friend Mencken is soooo right,” Scott said after tasting some stew. “Quote: ‘No one has ever lost money by underestimating the intelligence of the great masses of plain people, nor has anyone ever lost public office thereby.”

“Fitz, maybe you should write one of those dime novels.”

“I’d rather die.”

“Do not fret, monsieur. I believe you could write a good one.”

“Well,” Scott said to April, “what do you think? You’ve been silent so far.”

April put her spoon down and took a moment to formulate her response. “I’ve been reading The Great Gatsby and I really like it. I’m intrigued by the mysterious Jay Gatsby and how Nick perceives him. And then there’s the relationship between Jay and Daisy and Tom Buchanan. I look forward to finishing the book, hopefully tonight.”

“Thank you for saying so, but that wasn’t the question. Should I write a dime novel?”

“No, sir,” April said staring directly at Scott’s bloodshot eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with writing at an elite level. It’s a known fact that the masses prefer tabloid stories and yellow journalism, and that Mr. Hearts has capitalized on this. But I think you’d be doing yourself and the literary world a great disservice if you lowered your talents to that type of writing.”

Scott’s eyes watered. He looked shocked.

“Wow, Fitz,” Zelda said, humbled. “I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to you about your writing.”

About the Author:

Raised in Newark, Delaware, William spends his days working in Corporate America and writing about the First State. He achieved a Masters Degree in Writing Popular Fiction from Seton Hill University, but also writes non-fiction. Through Arcadia Publishing he has produced 5 books related to Delaware: The DuPont Highway, Along the Kirkwood Highway, Along the Christina River, Building Interstate in 95 in Delaware and Newark Then &amp Now. Fiction titles include: A Life Told to None, The Umpire, Seacrest, and the five-star The Katie Dugan Case. Whether his books are fact or fiction, William hopes to entertain as well as inform and leave the reader with a satisfying experience.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/william.francis.925
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7752881.William_Francis

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08XK1JYC7/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i4

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The Cowboy’s Embrace by Kara O’Neal

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From Kara:

The Cowboy’s Embrace came about because, when I introduced Deacon in book three of the series, I fell in love with him. He was strong, steady and smart. Really smart. Because he was the only one in book three who knew that trickery was afoot!

I had to give him a book. He deserved a true love. But what would his story be?

I have to say I took some time developing his match. She had to be someone righteous, honest and unafraid. She had to be able to stand next to Deacon and be her own person. Enter Lily Spero…the girl he abandoned in a park in Houston.

Now, before you get confused, he had his reasons for leaving her. So don’t hate him. Read his story and learn how these two triumph over a great evil. If you read it, know that my favorite part is how Lily steals the walking cane from the villain on the white horse and what happens after it.

[][][][][][[[][][][][][][][][][][[][][]

He abandoned her to face the world alone. Now that she’s with him again, can she forgive him?

THE COWBOY’S EMBRACE

Fate brings his greatest regret back into his life…

Back Cover Burb 

Lily Spero is searching for her stolen heritage, for a place in the world that is all her own. Sixteen years ago, she lost her parents and siblings to a villain on a white horse. Since, she’s hungered for family, for that love she’d once known. When she visits the Swinging A Ranch, her past collides with her present, opening wounds long buried and shockingly creating hope where none had been before.

Deacon Tolbert is the foreman and a contributing partner to the Swinging A Ranch. He’s carved a niche in the world all his own, finally feeling worthy of the goodness he’s found for himself. But when Lily Spero arrives, the girl he abandoned years ago, he’s forced to face the most gut-wrenching moment of his life.

Despite the pain, love surprises them and blossoms, bringing hope for the future. But the villain from the past comes to haunt them, to steal what they’re trying to build. Deacon and Lily must brave vile evil in order to stay together, and fight with all they have to keep the promises they made to each other.

Excerpt

He would come back soon. He would. He wouldn’t leave her here.

Lily assessed the park with its strong oaks and maples and winding packed dirt paths. She bit her lip and worked hard not to cry. She was a big girl. She was eleven, and he’d asked her to be brave while he was gone.

As she hid in the shade, she sank down to the grass, huddled against a trunk and hoped no one noticed a frightened, stranded, black girl. Where was he? What was taking so long? He only went to find food for them.

Morning turned into noon. People came. Some to eat their lunches on blankets they spread on the ground. Others to walk the picturesque paths. She pulled her knees into her chest and buried her nose in her dirt-caked pinafore. It had been yellow once. A pretty color as bright as the sun.

As she rocked back and forth, she prayed. She repeated over and over the words her mother had taught her. With her eyes clamped shut and her lips moving without ceasing, she implored to Heaven for Deacon to return.

But hours passed. Faces swam before her, asking her questions, giving her food. She couldn’t answer the nice strangers. Just gazed down the path, hoping, waiting, her heart dying.

Where are you? Please come. Please come back.

She silently begged to see his familiar form, dressed in overalls and a threadbare work shirt, coming around the bend to carry her away. But he didn’t come. And the kind people didn’t leave. They took her home with them, and Lily didn’t argue, even though their pale skin struck uncertainty in her heart. She couldn’t think. Deacon, she grieved.

And his name was the pained whisper on her lips every night, the perpetual cold ache in her heart…that could never be filled.

Book Purchase Link: https://books2read.com/u/38RBRd

 Author Bio

Born and raised in Texas, I had to make the state the setting for my first series. From the food to the fun, like floating the rivers, it is the fire in my blood that inspires me. My family and friends take center stage in my books. My sisters and best friends are my heroines, and my husband created my favorite hero. Love and family are the point of my stories, and I seek to entertain, relieve stress, and inspire people. Books can take one on a journey that one can relive over and over. I am extremely grateful to those authors who did that very thing for me. I learned and I fell in love with their words and characters. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Where to Find Kara

Website –  http://www.karaoneal.com

Bookbub –  https://www.bookbub.com/profile/kara-o-neal

Amazon –  http://www.amazon.com/Kara-ONeal/e/B00FL19TH8/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1465007993&sr=8-1

Barnes and Noble –  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/kara+o’neal?_requestid=845025

Facebook –  https://www.facebook.com/KaraONeal84/

Twitter –  https://twitter.com/KaraONealAuthor

Pinterest –  https://www.pinterest.com/karaoneal7/

Goodreads –  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7278350.Kara_O_Neal

Blog — http://www.karaoneal.com/blog

Blog – The Story Continues — http://www.karaoneal.com/the-story-continues

What We Bury

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by Carolyn Arnold

GENRE:   Mystery/Thriller

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BLURB:

She’s dying, and she knows it. If only she can stay alive long enough to leave one last message. As the rain beats against the metal roof, she uses her blood-soaked fingertip to scrawl on the floorboards… The letters GB.
 
Detective Madison Knight has been house hunting, but a call from her real estate agent has nothing to do with finding the perfect property. She’s found a woman’s body, stabbed multiple times. Madison arrives on scene and is presented with an unknown Jane Doe and two letters written in blood. There’s no murder weapon, and it seems Doe was attacked somewhere else.
 
As Madison works to find justice for the victim, Madison’s own life is put at risk. What she comes to discover is some people will go to extreme lengths to protect their secrets—even as far as murder. But will learning that lesson come too late for her?

Buy this international bestselling book today and join the investigation! Uncover clues, follow leads, and catch a cop killer like thousands of readers have done before you.

Excerpt:

Please visit https://carolynarnold.net/what-we-bury-blogger-page/  Blogger hosts can download the Media Kit that includes the excerpts. Also there are 3 ready made interviews. Each interview has a custom feature image for the post.

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

CAROLYN ARNOLD is an international bestselling and award-winning author, as well as a speaker, teacher, and inspirational mentor. She has four continuing fiction series—Detective Madison Knight, Brandon Fisher FBI, McKinley Mysteries, and Matthew Connor Adventures—and has written nearly thirty books. Her genre diversity offers her readers everything from cozy to hard-boiled mysteries, and thrillers to action adventures.

Both her female detective and FBI profiler series have been praised by those in law enforcement as being accurate and entertaining, leading her to adopt the trademark: POLICE PROCEDURALS RESPECTED BY LAW ENFORCEMENT™.

Carolyn was born in a small town and enjoys spending time outdoors, but she also loves the lights of a big city. Grounded by her roots and lifted by her dreams, her overactive imagination insists that she tell her stories. Her intention is to touch the hearts of millions with her books, to entertain, inspire, and empower.

She currently lives in London, Ontario with her husband and beagles and is a member of Crime Writers of Canada and Sisters in Crime.

Connect with CAROLYN ARNOLD Online:

Website – http://carolynarnold.net/

Twitter – https://twitter.com/Carolyn_Arnold

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/AuthorCarolynArnold And don’t forget to sign up for her newsletter for up-to-date information on release and special offers at http://carolynarnold.net/newsletters

Major Retailer Links & Goodreads:

Amazon
Barnes & Noble

Apple iBooks

Kobo

Google Play

Goodreads

GIVEAWAY INFO AND RAFFLECOPTER!

Carolyn Arnold will be awarding a $10 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

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Earl of Brecken by Aubrey Wynne

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This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Aubrey Wynne will be awarding a $10 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

A seductive Welsh earl on the brink of ruin. A wealthy cit in search of a hero.

Miss Evelina Franklin reads too many romance novels. She’s certain a handsome duke—or dashing highwayman—is in her future. In the meantime, Evie entertains herself with the admirers vying for her fortune.

The Earl of Brecken needs cash. His late father left their Welsh estate in ruin, and his mother will not let him rest until it is restored to its former glory. Notorious for his seductive charm, he searches the ballrooms for a wealthy heiress. His choices are dismal until he meets Miss Franklin. Guileless and gorgeous with an enormous dowry, she seems the answer to his prayers. Until his conscience makes an unexpected appearance.

Read an Excerpt

London, 1819

Madoc crumpled the paper and scowled fiercely at the roaring fire. He scanned the library of Brooks’s, then squinted at the shadowed corners of the room, glad no one else witnessed his irritation. He and a close confidante were enjoying a leisurely evening in a private London gentlemen’s club. They’d traded a profitable evening of gaming for a quiet place to talk and enjoy a decanter of brandy, when he’d remembered the envelope tucked inside his coat pocket.

“Bad news, Doc?” asked Kit, his dark eyes teasing. “It’s rare to see such a storm darken your face. I’m accustomed to the jovial yet bland expression you’ve perfected.”

He snorted with good humor at the Earl of Sunderland’s observation. “Ha! My invisible armor protects me well. News from home is rarely good these days.”

“Health or financial ailment?”

Madoc tossed the paper into the flames. “The solicitor informed me that he’s still waiting for my annual income. He sent word to my father, who replied it would arrive forthwith. I suppose I don’t need that stallion at Tattersall’s.”

“I could loan you the sum,” offered Sunderland with a grin, his midnight hair gleaming in the flickering light, “but you won more brass than I did at the tables.”

With a sigh, Madoc swirled the amber liquid in his crystal glass. “I’ve got blunt enough from my, er, other services. I couldn’t care less about the money. The sum has shrunk each year I’ve been gone.”

“Do you think there’s trouble with the estate? How is the cantankerous old Welshman?”

“Mama’s last letter described Father’s health as declining. He’s rarely left the grounds since his fall, and now he won’t leave the castle.”

Madoc remembered the accident like it was yesterday. Foxhunting had been his father’s favorite pastime—until he took a steep hedge that broke his back. The Earl of Brecken hadn’t walked in ten years. “He’s so blasted proud, didn’t want anyone to see him as less than a man, as he put it.”

“How old is he now?” Sunderland asked. “Must be nigh on sixty, eh?”

“Sixty-three last month.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I believe a journey home is in order. Something’s amiss.”

About the Author:

Bestselling and award-winning author Aubrey Wynne is an elementary teacher by trade, champion of children and animals by conscience, and author by night. She resides in the Midwest with her husband, dogs, horses, mule, and barn cats. Obsessions include wine, history, travel, trail riding, and all things Christmas. Her Chicago Christmas series has received the Golden Quill, Aspen Gold, Heart of Excellence, and the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence and twice nominated as a Rone finalist by InD’tale Magazine.

Aubrey’s first love is medieval romance but after dipping her toe in the Regency period in 2018 with the Wicked Earls’ Club, she was smitten. This inspired her spin-off series Once Upon a Widow and the Scottish Regency series A MacNaughton Castle Romance with Dragonblade Novels.

Find Aubrey

Website: https://aubreywynne.com
Facebook: https://facebook.com/magnificentvalor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/aubreywynne51
Instagram: https://instagram.com/Aubreywynne51
Bookbub Page: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/aubrey-wynne
Amazon Page: https://www.amazon.com/Aubrey-Wynne/e/B00II8QD6G/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7383937.Aubrey_Wynne
Subscribe to Aubrey’s newsletter for new releases and exclusive excerpts and free stories: http://www.subscribepage.com/k3f1z5
Facebook Reading Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/AubreyWynnesEverAfters/

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Release Day!! A Taboo Dark Fantasy from Black Lotus Books!

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TODAY!!  Black Lotus Books released Bianca Swan’s dark fantasy, Gemini Rising. Let’s hear about it from Bianca. Here’s the mic.

Thank you, Linda. I’m excited about the little book for two main reasons out of many. First, it is my first book with Black Lotus Books.  Second, for this reason:

There’s a story behind the penning of this tale, but not one like I’m writing about my own life.  I’m not a twin nor do I have any siblings. Nope. The tale behind this tale begins on Miami Beach yonks of years ago.

I’d been out on South Beach with a friend until quite late this non-momentous Saturday night. The next morning at 6 AM, the characters in Gemini Rising started yelling in my ear to tell their story.  I turned over , put the pillow over my head, but they wouldn’t shut up. I told them quite frankly I wasn’t interested in writing a controversial book. They didn’t listen. At last, in the interests of preserving what was left of my sanity, I crawled from bed and grabbed the nearest paper, which proved to be a legal pad.

On that legal pad, in purple ink, about half of what would have been Gemini Rising, had it been a novella, was written.  I had a beginning, a turning point, and an end.  I hoped the prose wasn’t as purple as the pen.  But that was the beginning and almost end of the book…

I put it aside, thinking no one would ever publish a controversial book. At the urging of Toni Sweeney, a very prolific author friend, I sent it to Double Dragon Publishing in Canada. To my vast surprise, I got a phone call at work one day accepting the book for publication! I would have hugged Toni’s neck but she was a thousand miles away.

Long story short, when my rights reverted to  me, I found Black Lotus Books–or rather they found me, and that’s another story.

Blurb:

The Alastair twins are a scientific impossibility. To parents who’ve tried every way to have a child, their male and female identical twins are a miracle.

Isolated in their island castle, the Alastair twins Alain and Alina turn to each other for friendship and love. But when their love shifts from fraternal to frighteningly deep, they’ll each dance with their lust in their own way.

A dark fantasy of forbidden longings and midnight pledges, spoken only to be broken or kept. How can these phenomenal twins possibly unleash their innermost desires? The answer will shock you.

Purchase Link:  https://blacklotustaboobooks.com/product/gemini-rising-biana-swan/

Which cover do you like best:  OR:

the one that in the end was rejected in favor of the pink one.

Gemini Rising has one factor in common with Game of Thrones. Can anyone guess what? I can send you a copy of an out-of-print novella, Hot Spanish Nights. This one is being rewritten and will be substantially different. The first one to guess correctly will win. If more than one guesses right, Siri can give me a random number. 🙂 OR US ONLY: A print copy of Gemini Rising published in 2012,  Please state your preference.