Monthly Archives: December 2018

by | December 12, 2018 · 5:00 am

CLAIMING MIA – Release Blitz

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Genre: Erotic Romance, BDSM, Spanking
Publisher: Blushing Books
Publication Date: November 16, 2018
Her betrayed heart said no; but her body pleaded yes.
Newly divorced Mia Reynolds doesn’t like Chief Nolan MacGregor. His arrogance gets under her skin, but it’s her body’s instant reaction every time he levels that cobalt gaze upon her or hints at giving her what he keeps insisting she wants that really gets to her. After her husband’sbetrayal, she’s sworn off getting involved with anyone, and certainly isn’t going to trust her fragile heart with the town’s reformed bad boy.
Nolan wants Mia and refuses to let her prickly stubbornness stand in his way. Once he entices her into an affair and shows her the benefits of submitting to him, her off-the-charts responses prove he was right all along – she is the one for him. When his investigation into an illegal drug ring implicates Mia’s business, he never stops believing in her innocence.
When the Feds go around him, Mia refuses to believe he hadn’t been with her just to keep an eye on her and her nursery for proof the drugs were coming in on the trucks carrying her landscaping orders.
Mia’s reluctance to trust Nolan completely lands her in trouble with a drug trafficker and it isn’t until she is kidnapped that she realizes what her insecurities and refusal to let go of the past might have cost her…
Publisher’s Note: This steamy contemporary romance contains elements of power exchange.
Claiming Mia Teaser
Claiming Mia Teaser

Excerpt

Thirty minutes later, she stood reaching for a potted vase sitting on the top shelf in the showroom when the bell over the door pealed. Before she could climb off the short stool, hard hands clasped her waist and lifted her down as if she weighed nothing. Flustered, she looked up, gritted her teeth and shifted in uncomfortable awareness when her eyes met Chief Nolan MacGregor’s amused gaze. Okay, she admitted it wasn’t the man’s physical appearance she objected to. What woman wouldn’t look twice at a six foot two, broad shouldered, slim hipped man who wore a Stetson tipped low enough to draw the eyes to the slit of his cobalt blue gaze? No, it was the arrogant dominance he wore like a comfortable coat that put her on edge whenever he entered her place, more so now he was crowding her against the shelves and making her even more aware of that ripped body. She much preferred easy-going, polite men.
Wishing it was anyone but him, she stated with a huff, “You’re crowding me, Chief.”
Those sensuous lips curved in a slow smile as he stepped back. “I wouldn’t make you so uncomfortable if you’d let yourself cut loose with me.”
Damn. There went that warm flush spreading through her body when he thumbed back his hat far enough for those enigmatic, blue eyes to zero in on her with a long perusal. He made no effort to hide the appreciative trail he took from her braided, dark brown hair to her sneaker-clad feet. How one look from him could make her dormant body sit up and take notice when she didn’t even like the man was beyond her. She sure as heck didn’t like it. She’d never been one to be ruled by baser urges, instead preferring a positive connection with a man or woman before embarking on a friendship, something that was definitely lacking between her and the chief.
Shuffling behind the counter, Mia breathed a sigh of relief once she put the wide, butcher block space between them. She glanced up, way up at the only man who’d been able to get under her skin. There wasn’t one thing she could pinpoint that rubbed her the wrong way; instead, it seemed to be the uneasy combination of arrogance, dominance and male magnetism she objected to, and her betraying body’s response to those undesirable traits. There was no use denying the way her pulse spiked under the slow stroke of his ice-blue eyes that was as potent as a caress, a reaction she should be used to by now since it had been occurring from the moment she first set eyes on him kissing that woman all those years ago.
“Thanks, Chief, but I have enough on my plate right now to keep me from even thinking about being added to your long list of conquests,” she returned primly, ignoring his taunting smirk. “Thank you for your order. Trish has it ready for you.” She pulled the vase forward.
“I didn’t peg you as the type to listen to small town rumors, Ms. Reynolds.” He nodded at the colorful arrangement. “Nice, thank you. I’m glad I caught you in.” The way he drew out Ms. Reynolds in a slow drawl hinted he knew about the finalization of her divorce. He and every other citizen in Whitetail.
Reaching into his breast pocket, Chief McGregor pulled out two tickets and slid them across the counter toward her. Tilting his hat back even further, he offered her a better view of his rugged face bronzed by sun and wind and capped with coal black hair tinted grey around his forehead. “You haven’t paid these.”
“I’m sorry, I’ve been so busy, I forgot.” Picking up the parking tickets, she winced at the fines. Her habit of pulling over and parking wherever it was convenient to expedite her errands resulted in a parking fine more often than not. That was just one of Pete’s constant complaints that went along with her always being in a hurry. “I can come in later this afternoon and take care of them.”
Leaning on the counter, he replied in that deep voice that never failed to curl her toes. “See that you do. Or, better yet, don’t. Now that you’re officially free, it’ll give me a good excuse to offer you a choice of consequences.”
The corners of his mouth kicked up in another smile, but she couldn’t miss the hint of a threat behind his words that set her heart to hammering with uncertainty. That didn’t concern her near as much as the sudden warm gush between her legs. She didn’t even like the man, for pity’s sake, and she really didn’t care for his forward insinuations.
Claiming Mia Teaser

About BJ Wane

I live in the Midwest with my husband and our dog, a lovable Great Pyrenees/Standard Poodle. I love dogs, enjoy spending time with my daughter, babysitting dogs and kids, reading and working puzzles. We have traveled extensively throughout the states, Canada and just once overseas, but I now prefer being a homebody. I worked for a while writing articles for a local magazine but soon found my interest in writing for myself peaking. My first book was strictly spanking erotica, but I slowly evolved to writing erotic spanking romance with a touch of suspense. My favorite genre to read is suspense.
Social media links: Facebook | Twitter | Instagram

Giveaway

WIN $25 AMAZON GIFT CARD
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Contest runs from December 10 – 16, 2018.
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by | December 9, 2018 · 5:00 am

Christmas in Prague – Blitz

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Psychological Romance
Date Published: November 24, 2018
Publisher: Foolishness Press
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Christmas in Prague is the story of Joseph, a divorced American twenty-something living as an expat in Prague. He’s obsessed with Karina, a Czech waitress-turned-supermodel. She’s freshly back from a trip to Italy with her English teacher, and she’s ready to give Joseph the attention for which he’s been longing. Will his Christmas wish come true?
 
Excerpt
After soup, we have Buck’s vánočka, sweet bread with apricots and raisins that have been soaked in hot brandy for days. I am not a huge fan, but I have a taste to prove that I am game. Next comes the fried carp with bramborovy salat. As the dishes are being served, Avi tells a story, an earlier expat Christmas at Beth’s apartment, the one that Kamil took after she left.
“I walk in and there she is, Beth, on her knees. Dressed in a white plastic apron, dishwashing gloves and lab goggles. The dish washing gloves were purple. On the floor were a rubber mallet, various rusting knives with wooden handles, and a pair of yellow gardening shears laid out on newspaper. There was blood all over. She was digging out guts, clipping off fins and the tail. Bits of guts and fish and blood were everywhere. Splattered all over the white tile. It looks like a massacre. She stuffed the offal in a plastic bag. It said Kotva on it. She stood up – bag in one hand, carp head in the other. She slipped in the blood on the floor and caught herself. The head kept mouthing, looking down. Beth looked at me, my mouth hanging open. She said, ‘What?’ I told her I would help her clean up. It was hilarious.” The potato salad is very tasty, but the carp is pungent. It is cooked to perfection, there’s nothing that could have been done better, but it is just a dark and smelly fish. No getting around it. I eat a couple of bites, wash it down with beer and move on. Whew.
Brad speaks up. “Barbora, can you ask your babička why carp for Christmas? I know it is a tradition, but why?” Barbora smiles and leans toward her grandmother, translating.
Barbora answers, “She says it is for good luck. You know in Slovakia and Poland they have the same tradition. Buy a carp at the Christmas Market, and it becomes a family pet for a few days, living in the bathtub. Some people ask the fish monger to cut the filets right there on Old Town Square, but the real way to do it is to bring it home and butcher it yourself.”
About the Author

Rick Pryll is an award-winning author and poet. His book, “The Chimera of Prague” was selected as the winner of the 2018 New York Book Festival for Romance. A graduate of MIT, Rick wrote a novella as the thesis for his Mechanical Engineering degree. Having grown up in Western New York State, Rick and his wife, ArtPop Charlotte 2018 artist Holly Spruck, live in Charlotte.  They have two children, two cats and a dog.
First published to the web in 1994, his hyperfiction short story “LIES” has garnered praise from the Wall Street Journal, SHIFT magazine, and several other publications in print and online.  It is cited in more than seven books, has been translated into Spanish and Chinese.
From 1996 to 2002 Rick lived in Prague, in the Czech Republic.  While there he published two books including Displaced (Foolishness Press, 1998) and Wallow (Foolishness Press, 1999).  His stories and poems have been featured on the pages of THINK and OPTIMISM.
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by | · 5:00 am

Santa Daddy – Release Reboot

Santa Daddy

by Allysa Hart and Rayanna Jamison

Now Available: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07KW52FZQ/

or FREE on KU

Santa Daddy cover

I finished my beer and stood. “Crystal, listen. I know you don’t understand, and I know you don’t care, but this is really important to me. Would you please just consider letting in the possibility of change? Could you just open your heart up the tiniest bit to the magic of Christmas and see what happens?”

She said nothing.

Son of a Nutcracker.

It was a risky move, but I knew what I had to do. I had to leave her something to remember me by.

I snapped my fingers, and a tree appeared in the corner of the living room, covered in colored lights and adorned with brightly colored glass balls. The topper of course, was a jolly Santa, made to my likeness, with a red velvet suit, and real leather boots.

Her eyes widened then narrowed as she scowled at me.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” I snapped my fingers again, and a handful of wrapped presents appeared beneath it. “There’s gifts in those you know,” I whispered. “Technically, you’re not supposed to open them until Christmas, but you’re already on the naughty list, so I say go for it.”

Still nothing. My heart sank, and I realized I two weeks may not be enough time. This woman was practically dead inside when it came to Christmas. I snapped my fingers again, going for the full effect this time. Decorations covered every inch of her house now, and a fire roared to life in a fireplace underneath a mantle adorned with festive decor and brightly colored stockings.

Instead of looking charmed or excited, she stopped and scowled at me. “Will you please stop? It’s going to take me forever to undo this mess you’ve made.” She stomped her foot. “Stop it right now.”

“Not until you agree to let me come back tomorrow, and take you on a date. A Christmas date,” I elaborated. “It has to be a date doing something Christmasy.”

“Ugh, why would I do that?” she groaned. “I don’t even know you.”

I snapped my fingers again, and the house filled with the smells of Christmas as a tray of cookies, and candies, and even fruit cake appeared in the center of the table. Next to it were two huge glasses of fresh egg nog.

Her jaw worked back and forth as she took in the fragrant display of delectable treats. She was angry, I could tell, but also tempted. I couldn’t blame her. My mother’s cookies were pretty fabulous. Crystal stayed strong. I reached over and picked up a cookie in the shape of a tree, groaning loudly as I bit into it.

Chewing slowly and expectantly, I watched her for any sign of breaking but she gave none.

She was playing hardball. That was fine. I could play too.

I held my fingers up as if to snap them. “My next two moves are my head elf and a live reindeer. I’d think about giving in if I were you,” I warned.

Now Available: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07KW52FZQ/

Santa Daddy teaser 2

My most important job as Santa is to rid the world of non-believers of all ages. But first, I have to make one of them my wife.

Crystal spent her entire life avoiding Christmas, and I have only two weeks to convince her otherwise. She is stubborn, but I am determined.

She will learn the magic of Christmas either on Santa’s lap, or over it.

The fate of Christmas depends on it.

Now Available: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07KW52FZQ/

Santa Daddy teaser 5
Santa Daddy teaser1
Allysa Hart

I am a full-time mom to a sassy, strong-willed, loveable little girl. Okay, so she is all me. I am on the wrong side of 30, and I have been married to my best friend for over eight years. Like most couples, we have our ups and downs, but I could not imagine doing life with anyone else by my side. We are Southern California transplants, currently residing in a very rural part of the east coast. I have two crazy dogs that I adore, even though they drive me out of my ever-loving mind, most days. I have recently rediscovered my love of words and decided to become a writer. My first story is my heart and soul, and it reaches into the depths of all that is me. I also create covers, promos, and logos for authors. I have met some amazing friends on this journey that I now happily call family. Without my family members, whether biological or chosen, I would not be half the person I am today. Their constant love and support keep me afloat.

Stalk Ally at:

Blog:

https://allysahart.wordpress.com/

Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/allysahartauthor https://www.facebook.com/authorallysahart/ https://www.facebook.com/allycatscreations/

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/allysa-hart

Instagram:

https://www.instagram.com/allycat602/

Amazon:

https://www.amazon.com/Allysa-Hart/e/B01M747C3A/

Email:

allycat5765@gmail.com
Rayanna Jamison

Rayanna is a coffee drinking, wine loving, sushi obsessed, knee sock fanatic who works her passions into every story she writes. She resides in Southern Utah with her husband, 2 kids, mother, grandfather, and 2 dogs.

In her spare time, she enjoys celebrating life with good food, good drinks, and good friends.

You can find me at these following places:

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

Twitter @rayannaJamison

Amazon – https://www.amazon.com/Rayanna-Jamison/e/B00MCX92OS/

Bookbubhttps://www.bookbub.com/authors/rayanna-jamison

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by | December 5, 2018 · 5:00 am

His Magic Touch – Blitz

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Paranormal Romance
Date Published: December 5, 2018
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
 
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The night before his wedding, Jared Dupre discovers the demonic witch, Adam Montief, has kidnapped his brother, threatening to kill him, along with Jared’s fiancée, Kendra O’Connell, for a centuries-old vendetta Jared knows nothing about. A powerful witch himself, Jared tracks Adam from New Orleans to a remote island off the coast of Connecticut. A swordfight ensues where a final thrust of Jared’s blade sends Adam over the cliff into the sea below.
When Jared returns to New Orleans, he finds a triumphant Adam alive and declaring his love for Kendra.
Kendra, not knowing Jared was forced to break off their engagement to save her life, turns to a new man, unaware he’s the same man who vows to kill the man she loves.
Jared must look to the past to discover the truth behind the Montief’s vengeance against the Dupres while he fights to win back Kendra and bring about Adam’s final destruction before Kendra is seduced into Adam’s world of revenge and sadistic evil.
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Excerpt
In the stifling heat, Angelique Montief flicked her wrist and set the bamboo ceiling fan spinning. Kneeling on a woven mat with sweat coating her body, she lifted a small wooden brass-bound casket from the bottom of a large trunk, inserted a gold key, and opened the lid. Inside two objects lay wrapped in thick cloth. She carefully unwrapped the smaller bundle to reveal a pentagonal mirror, a gift handed down to her by her grandmother, its ancient oak frame carved with tiny pentacles. She glanced over her shoulder at her locked bedroom door, then stared into the mirror and whispered, “Show him to me.”
When the glass remained blank, fear clutched at her chest. Again, she said the words, and the image of a plantation house engulfed in flames appeared. “No, please, he can’t be dead.” Tears blurred her vision. The fiery image changed to reveal a human form lying beneath flowering bougainvillea.
Hope rising, Angelique peered closer.
“Show me his face.”                   
She saw his indigo blue eyes blink open.
“I’m coming, my love.”              
He couldn’t hear her, but she hoped in his heart that he knew she would find a way to get to him.
As the smoke in the room thickened, she knew her time was running out. She rewrapped the mirror and placed it into the smaller casket among cloth bags of herbs and potion-filled vials. Relocking the lid, she hung the key on a chain around her neck, dropped a jeweled dagger into her pocket, and tucked the casket under her arm.
Crouched beneath the smoke, she considered the quickest way to reach her son and escape.
Augustus had locked her in, placing what he thought would be an impenetrable shield across both doors. Angelique coughed, choked by the smoke. Her husband’s biggest mistake was underestimating her power.
About the Author

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Debby Grahl lives on Hilton Head Island, South Carolina, with her husband, David. Besides writing, she enjoys biking, walking on the beach and a glass of wine at sunset. Her favorite places to visit are New Orleans, New York City, Captiva Island in Florida, the Cotswolds of England, and her home state of Michigan. She is a history buff who also enjoys reading murder mysteries, time travel, and, of course, romance. Visually impaired since childhood by Retinitis Pigmentosa (RP), she uses screen-reading software to research and write her books.
            Her first published book, The Silver Crescent, won the Paranormal Romance Guild Reviewers’ Choice award. Her second book, Rue Toulouse, a contemporary romance set in New Orleans, was a finalist in the National Excellence in Romantic Fiction Award and was selected as a May, 2016, ‘local read’ by Hilton Head Monthly.
            Decorated to Death is a holiday mystery cozy. She also has stories in three anthologies, The Haunted West, Never Fear/Christmas Terrors; and Ebb and Flow from the local Island Writers’ Network.
            Debby was featured in the January, 2016, Hilton Head Monthly article ‘Intriguing People of the Lowcountry’. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, Florida Romance Writers, and First Coast Romance Writers.
            Her latest book, His Magic Touch, will be released December 5, 2018, by Wild Rose Press.
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by | December 4, 2018 · 5:00 am

The Seas of Distant Stars – Book Tour

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Literary Science-Fiction
Date Published:  August 7th, 2018
Publisher: Owl House Books
 
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Agapanthus was kidnapped when she was only two years old, but she doesn’t remember it. In fact, she doesn’t remember her home planet at all. All she knows is Deeyae, the land of two suns; the land of great, red waters. Her foster-family cares for her, and at first that’s enough. But, as she grows older, Agapanthus is bothered by the differences between them. As an Exchanger, she’s frail and tall, not short and strong. And, even though she was raised Deeyan, she certainly isn’t treated like one. One day, an Exchanger boy completes the Deeyan rite-of-passage, and Agapanthus is inspired to try the same. But, when she teams up with him, her quest to become Deeyan transforms into her quest to find the truth―of who she is, and of which star she belongs to.

Excerpt

They walked home; through the buzzing silence, through the steady, sweet-warm glow of the inescapable sky, lit aloft by the home sun and the quiet meanderings of the God stars, which now Agapanthus hated—hated, hated, hated, with all her gut and her clenched jaw and all the strength she could pour into the limbs of her weak, young body.

Could the Gods sense this? Could they see or hear inside her mind—inside anyone’s mind—just as they could with the Contact? Was the Contact only special because he could sense their presence there, while all the others remained blind? She hated them. Suddenly she understood how the Others must feel. They were the ones living on the fringes of the frozen lands to the south and the great deserts to the north. Right on the very edge, next to the Waters. During the Awakening, the Gods had only spoken to Contacts living around the equator. The islanders. The Others were not the chosen people. They were primitive; they didn’t have access to the technology of the Gods. No; they still worshipped the old god, the single, fierce god of the underbelly of Deeyae, who they believed controlled the hydrothermal vents, and, thus, all life. But those who worshipped the Gods knew this was not true. They knew that They controlled everything from their high perch on Aamsh and Jord. Without them, the Deeyans would not exist, and all of Deeyae would crumble.

Agapanthus didn’t know whether the Others believed in the Gods. But how could they not? Their touch was everywhere—in the science labs, in the healing centers, in the portation center, in the exchange program headquarters, in the electricity, in every advanced device, every planet-transport machine, every light. But maybe the Others didn’t know about this evidence. Either way, she knew they must hate the idea of the Gods. The idea that the islanders were better than them. Superior, chosen, brilliant. Agapanthus had only seen the Others once, on the way to the Star Festival in the ice lands. They had passed their camp—animal-skin tents, round and low to the ground, and a small gathering area of stones where they probably sat and spoke of their underworld god. But the only Other in view was a young woman. All Agapanthus saw was the back of her head, right outside one of the tents. And then, she remembered, Great-Aunt Tayzaya said something, like, “Poor things.” And they had all gone on, farther and farther from the eternal sun of the equator, into the dark half of the planet. It was always night there; always. They wore special fur suits that covered every speck of skin and body except their eyes. Onward they had walked, over the strange, ticking, cracking ice that smelled of water and soil at once. It was so tiring that Pittick had to carry her in his arms. She fell asleep pressed against his chest. His warmth. When she opened her eyes they had arrived. And that was when she looked up; above them, the sky had melted from red to—to everything. A black sculpture painted with stars, with lights that bulged, and soared, and cascaded; that reflected on the unending ice fields until ground and sky became one, rolling the world into a sphere of light.

“Aga,” Leera had said, crouching to Agapanthus’s level. Her words were muffled through the furs. “There is your home world.” She pointed to a certain light, faintly yellow, unblinking.

It was disappointing. It looked like nothing. Like anything. Like any other star.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Leera said. “That is your home sun.”

“It looks just like the other ones.”

“Exactly. And they are all beautiful.”

 

About the Author

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Francesca G. Varela was raised in Oregon’s Willamette Valley. In 2015 she graduated from the University of Oregon with degrees in Environmental Studies and Creative Writing, and she then went on to receive her master’s degree in Environmental Humanities from the University of Utah.
Francesca’s dream of becoming an author began in third grade, and her writing career had an early start; she wrote her award-winning first novel, Call of the Sun Child, when she was only 18 years old, and she wrote her second novel, Listen, when she was only 20.
When not writing or reading, Francesca enjoys playing piano, figure skating, hiking, identifying wild birds, plants, and constellations, and travelling to warm, sunny places whenever she can.
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