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Thursday, May 25, 2017

Waves of Murder A Fiona Quinn Mystery by C.S. McDonald Book Tour and Giveaway

Join Fiona and the gang for a hot whodunit on the sandy beaches of Presque Isle, Pennsylvania!



Book Details:

Book Title: Waves of Murder: A Fiona Quinn Mystery
Author: C.S. McDonald
​Category: YA Fiction, 190 pages
Genre: Cozy Mystery
Publisher: McWriter Books
Release date: April 11, 2017
Tour dates: May 15 to 26, 2017
Content Rating: G (The Fiona Quinn Mysteries are for everyone--adults love the books and they are appropriate for teens and tweens too!)

Book Description:

School’s out for the summer!

Kindergarten teacher, Fiona Quinn is looking forward to spending some quality time in her yard and with her boyfriend, Detective Nathan Landry. However, Fiona’s plans get squelched when her mother volunteers her to edit a manuscript for famous romance author, Wyla Parkes.

What’s so bad about that? The author insists Fiona must work on the manuscript at her beach cottage on Presque Isle--three hours away from her yard and Nathan. Spending six weeks in an adorable cottage on a private beach doesn’t really seem all that bad until people start turning up dead—beginning with the author! Fiona’s summer of sun and sand is instantly transformed into a murder investigation. Can Fiona and Nathan crack the case or will the murderer get away on a wave of deceit?

Join Fiona and the gang for a hot whodunit on the sandy beaches of Presque Isle, Pennsylvania!

Buy the Book: 


Meet the Author: 



For twenty-six years C.S. McDonald’s life whirled around a song and a dance. She was a professional dancer and choreographer. During that time she choreographed many musicals and an opera for the Pittsburgh Savoyards. In 2011 she retired from her dance career to write. Under her real name, Cindy McDonald, she writes murder-suspense and romantic suspense novels. In 2014 she added the pen name, C.S. McDonald, to write children’s books for her grandchildren. Now she adds the Fiona Quinn Mysteries to that expansion. She decided to write the cozy mystery series for her young granddaughters, and has found that so many adults love them too.

Ms. McDonald resides on her Thoroughbred farm known as Fly by Night Stables near Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania with her husband, Bill, and her poorly behaved Cocker Spaniel, Allister.

Connect with the author: Website ~ Twitter ~ Facebook


BOOK SPOTLIGHT TOUR:

May 15 - Library of Clean Reads - book spotlight / author interview / giveaway
May 15 - Book Crazy Scrapbook Mama - book spotlight / giveaway
May 15 - Working Mommy Journal - book spotlight / giveaway
May 15 - Corinne Rodrigues - book spotlight / guest post / giveaway
May 16 - Reviews in the City - book spotlight / giveaway
May 16 - Celticlady's Reviews - book spotlight / guest post / giveaway
May 16 - Books, Dreams, Life - book spotlight / giveaway
May 16 - Blooming with Books - book spotlight / giveaway
May 17 - Rainy Day Reviews - book spotlight / giveaway
May 17 - Sleuth Cafe - book spotlight / author interview / giveaway
May 17 - Zerina Blossom's Books - book spotlight / giveaway
May 17 - Mystery Suspense Reviews - book spotlight / guest post
May 18 - FUONLYKNEW - book spotlight / author interview / giveaway
May 18 - The Book Drealms - book spotlight / giveaway
May 18 - Laura's Interests - book spotlight / giveaway
May 18 - #redhead.with.book - book spotlight / giveaway
May 19 - Babs Book Bistro - book spotlight / giveaway
May 19 - Brooke Blogs - book spotlight / guest post / giveaway
May 19 -100 Pages a day - book spotlight / giveaway
May 19 - Puddletown Reviews - book spotlight / giveaway
May 22 - Hall Ways Blog - book spotlight / giveaway
May 22 - Literary Flits - book spotlight / giveaway
May 22 - Books for Books - book spotlight
May 22 - Bound 2 Escape - book spotlight / giveaway
May 23 - Kristin's Novel Cafe - book spotlight / giveaway
May 23 - Katie's Clean Book Collection - book spotlight / giveaway
May 23 - Cassidy's Bookshelves - book spotlight / author interview / giveaway
May 23 - Travelling Through Words - book spotlight / giveaway
May 24 - Rockin' Book Reviews - book spotlight / guest post / giveaway
May 24 - Seasons of Opportunities - book spotlight / author interview / giveaway
May 24 - Bookworm Cafe - book spotlight / giveaway
May 25 - JBronder Book Reviews - book spotlight
May 25 - Carole's Book Corner - book spotlight /
May 25 - Deal Sharing Aunt - book spotlight / giveaway
May 26 - 3 Partners in Shopping Nana, Mommy + Sissy, Too! - spotlight / giveaway
May 26 - StoreyBook Reviews - book spotlight / giveaway
May 26 - Jessica Cassidy - book spotlight


Enter the Giveaway!
Ends June 3


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I Knew You Were Trouble by Lauren Layne Excerpt Reveal and Giveaway

 




A feisty beauty must choose between winning back Mr. Right 
or giving in to Mr. Wrong.








I KNEW YOU WERE TROUBLE
Oxford Series #4
Lauren Layne
Releasing June 13, 2017
Loveswept


New York City’s hottest bachelors are stirring up trouble in this fun, flirty Oxford Novel, as a love triangle forces a feisty beauty to choose between winning back Mr. Right or giving in to Mr. Wrong.

Taylor Carr has it all—a sleek job in advertising, a stunning Manhattan apartment, and the perfect man to share it with: Bradley Calloway. Even after Bradley dumps her for a co-worker on move-in day, Taylor isn’t worried. She’ll get her man eventually. In the meantime, she needs a new roommate. Enter Nick Ballantine, career bartender, freelance writer—and longtime pain in Taylor’s ass. Sexy in a permanent five-o’clock-shadow kind of way, Nick knows how to push Taylor’s buttons, as if he could see right through to the real her.

Nick’s always trying to fix people, and nobody could use a good fixing more than Taylor. Sure, she’s gorgeous, with mesmerizing silver eyes, but it’s her vulnerability that kills him. Now that they’re shacking up together, the chemistry is out of control. Soon they’re putting every part of their two-bedroom apartment to good use. Then Taylor’s ex comes crawling back to her, and Nick figures she’ll jump at the chance to go back to her old life—unless he fights for the best thing that ever happened to him.



PRE-ORDER TODAY!


Bradley froze when he saw her, and she was pretty sure she saw the urge to turn and run flicker across his face.
Again she felt a stab of disappointment. In him. And in herself for apparently having misread him. She’d thought he was better than this.
Bradley’s eyes moved between her and Nick, and though he didn’t look all that surprised at seeing them bickering, his gaze grew hard as he saw Nick’s hand on Taylor’s face.
Nick, naturally, took his sweet time removing it, and she resisted the urge to kick his shin.
“Morning, Bradley,” Taylor said, pleased that her voice sounded calm and friendly. As well it should. She’d had plenty of practice over the better part of a year pretending that she and Bradley were nothing more than colleagues.
Other than a few close friends who knew they were dating, they’d done a mostly decent job of hiding their romantic relationship from coworkers. Better than she and Nick had done hiding their antagonistic one.
“Hey, Taylor. Nick,” Bradley said.
He entered the room and reached for a coffee mug, turning his attention toward the other man. “Didn’t realize you’d taken on another assignment. What for?”
“Not sure,” Nick said, checking his watch. “Have a meeting with Cassidy in a few to find out.”
“Here’s hoping it’s an offsite gig that takes you far, far away. Maybe he needs someone to cover Siberian winters,” Taylor said to Nick, even as she watched Bradley out of the corner of her eye.
“Don’t need to travel to find severe winter. It doesn’t get any chillier than right here,” Nick retorted, waving his hand over her head in a storm cloud gesture.
She shoved his hand aside, her attention still on Bradley, who was determinedly avoiding her gaze.
Coward.
It was going to be darn hard to get him to see reason when he wouldn’t even make eye contact.
Nick, ever too perceptive for his own good, noticed the tension and gave a quick look between her and Bradley, his gaze turning speculative.
She shot him a warning look that clearly said, Dont.
He shot an answering smile that clearly said, Watch me.
“Bradley, don’t suppose you’re in the market for a roommate?” Nick asked, his voice deceptively casual.
Bradley’s head snapped up, and finally, finally his blue gaze collided with Taylor’s. Dammit. Why did he have to be so beautiful? He was like a mischievous angel, all twinkling blue eyes, dimples, a sexy cleft in his chin, dark blond wavy hair . . .
“What?” he asked Nick distractedly, still looking at Taylor.
“Taylor here wants to share her original crown molding with someone.”
Bradley winced, and Taylor felt a little surge of gratitude toward Nick. He couldn’t have known it, but it was the perfect jab. She and Bradley were both into prewar architecture—had eaten up the broker’s description of all the building’s original elements.
Taylor should be sharing that crown molding with Bradley. And he damn well knew it.
His eyes met hers in silent misery—an apology that she wasn’t quite ready to accept. Heck, she wasn’t even ready to acknowledge it, because she had no intention of being dumped. Not by him, not by any man.
Taylor ignored the guilt written all over Bradley’s face as she held his gaze. “Yes, it seems I unexpectedly have a free bedroom and more rent than I can afford. If either of you knows anyone looking for a roommate . . .”
Bradley’s handsome face twisted regretfully, and he set his coffee aside, taking a step toward her, apparently forgetting—or not caring—that Nick was still in the room.
“Taylor. Damn it. I told you—”
“Actually, I do,” Nick said, interrupting.
Taylor forced her gaze away from Bradley’s pleading face toward Nick’s smug one. “You know someone who needs a roommate?”
“Yup.” He crossed his arms and watched her.
She made an impatient gesture with her hand. “Who? It can’t be one of your ex-girlfriends—I don’t want to inadvertently hear any gross details about you. And not one of your frat-boy guy friends—my living room isn’t cut out for Call of Duty.”
“Yeah, because that’s all I do all day.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay, for real, who is it?”
His grin was slow, sly, and the very definition of trouble. “Me.”








Lauren Layne is the New York Times bestselling author of over a dozen romantic comedies.

A former e-commerce and web marketing manager from Seattle, Lauren relocated to New York City in 2011 to pursue a full-time writing career.

She lives in midtown Manhattan with her high-school sweetheart, where she writes smart romantic comedies with just enough sexy-times to make your mother blush. In LL's ideal world, every stiletto-wearing, Kate Spade wielding woman would carry a Kindle stocked with Lauren Layne books. 



*No Purchase Necessary*


Dream A Little Dream by Susan Kandel Book Tour , Excerpt and Giveaway

Dream A Little Death

by Susan Kandel

on Tour May 23 - June 23, 2017

Synopsis:

Dream A Little Death by Susan Kandel

From critically acclaimed author Susan Kandel comes a charming new mystery featuring Dreama Black and a cast of zany LA-based characters.

The first time I set eyes on Miles McCoy, I worried he might try to eat me. He was the size and girth of a North American grizzly, with long, silver-tipped hair, a long silver-tipped beard, and small dark eyes that bore into me like I was a particularly fine specimen of Chinook salmon. It couldn't have helped that I'd used a honey scrub the morning we met. I should've known better. Not just about the scrub, but about a lot of things.
Like braving the freeway during rush hour.
Like thinking you can't get a ticket for parking at a broken meter.
Like racing up to his penthouse in gladiator sandals, and expecting not to twist an ankle.
Like watching his fiancée shoot herself, and assuming it was suicide, instead of murder.
Meet Dreama Black. A 28 year-old, third-generation groupie trying to figure out who she is after being publicly dumped by the rock god whose mega-hit, "Dreama, Little Dreama" made the name and the girl world-famous. Now Dreama supports herself by running custom-designed, themed tours of her hometown of L.A. When she is hired by a Raymond Chandler-obsessed rap producer to create a "L.A. noir" tour as his present to his soon-to-be bride, Dreama gets pulled into the middle of a possible murder, corrupt cops, and an unforgettable pair of femme fatales.

Book Details:

Genre: Mystery/Thriller
Published by: Witness Impulse
Publication Date: May 23rd 2017
Number of Pages: 304
ISBN: 0062674994 (ISBN13: 9780062674999)
Series: A Dreama Black Mystery, 1
Purchase Links: Amazon  | Barnes & Noble  | Goodreads 

Read an excerpt:

Chapter 1
The first time I set eyes on Miles McCoy, I worried he might try to eat me. He was the size and girth of a North American grizzly bear, with long silver-tipped hair, a long silver-tipped beard, and small dark eyes that bore into me like I was a particularly fine specimen of Chinook salmon. It couldn’t have helped that I’d used a honey scrub the morning we met. I should’ve known better. Not just about the scrub, but about a lot of things.
Like braving the freeway during rush hour.
Like thinking you can’t get a ticket for parking at a broken meter.
Like racing up to his penthouse in Balenciaga gladiator sandals, and expecting not to twist an ankle.
Like watching his fiancée shoot herself, and assuming it was suicide, instead of murder.
But I’m getting ahead of myself, which is another thing I should know better about. Because if I’ve learned anything at all from my study of film noir (which got me into the whole sordid Miles McCoy mess to begin with), it is to tell the story in the precise order in which it happened.
The trouble started the day before, which was Valentine’s Day, a pagan holiday named after the Roman priest who defied Claudius II by marrying Christian couples. After being hauled off in shackles, the soft-hearted cleric was beaten with clubs, stoned, and when that didn’t finish him off, publicly beheaded. Makes you think.
It had poured rain for eight days running, which isn’t what you sign on for when you live in Los Angeles. But that morning, as I stepped outside for a run, the sun was blinding—so blinding, in fact, that I didn’t see the fragrant valentine my neighbor’s dog, Engelbart, had left on the stoop for me. Not that I minded spending the next twenty minutes cleaning the grooves of my running shoe with a chopstick. It was a beautiful day. The rollerbladers were cruising the Venice boardwalk. The scent of medical marijuana was wafting through the air. Engelbart’s gastrointestinal tract was sound.
An hour later, I hopped into my mint green 1975 Mercedes convertible, and made my way up Lincoln to the freeway. I was headed to Larchmont, an incongruous stretch of Main Street, USA, sandwiched between Hollywood and Koreatown. This was where studio executives’ wives and their private school daughters came for green juice, yoga pants, and the occasional wrench from the general store that had served Hancock Park since the 1930s. It was also where my mother and grandmother ran Cellar Door, known for its chia seed porridge and life-positive service. I helped out whenever my coffers were running low. Which was most of the time.
You are probably frowning right about now. Surely a young woman who owns a classic convertible—as well as Balenciaga gladiators—should not be perennially low on funds. But it’s true.
The car came from my grandmother, who received it as part of her third (fourth?) divorce settlement and gave it to me as a gift when I strong-armed my mother into rehab for the fourth (fifth?) time. The sandals I purchased online in a frenzy of self-loathing shortly after watching my ex-boyfriend the rock god serenading his current girlfriend the supermodel on an otherwise uneventful episode of Ellen. I’d tried to return the sandals, but one of the studs had fallen off, making them damaged goods. Like their owner. Not that I’m hard on myself. It’s just that my career—I take clients on custom-designed, private tours of my hometown of L.A.—wasn’t exactly thriving, which is why I was easy prey for the likes of Miles McCoy. But I’m getting ahead of myself again. Here comes the good part. The part where I’m driving like the wind and almost don’t notice the flashing lights in my mirror. I knew I should have fixed that taillight.
I pulled over, cut the motor, handed the cop my license and registration. He looked down, then did a double take. “Dreama Black?”
That would be me.
“The Dreama Black?” he continued. “As in ‘Dreama, Little Dreama’?”
Perhaps I should explain.
I am a twenty-eight-year-old, third-generation rock ’n’ roll groupie—or “muse,” as the women in my family like to put it.
My grandmother, a fine-boned blonde who never met a gossamer shawl or Victorian boot she didn’t like, spent the sixties sleeping her way through Laurel Canyon, winding up in a house on Rothdell Trail (a.k.a. “Love Street”) purchased for her by a certain lead singer of a certain iconic band whose name is the plural of the thing that hits you on the way out.
My mother, blessed with thick, dark tresses and a way with mousse, was consort to many of the pseudo-androgynous alpha males of American hair metal, her chief claim to fame an MTV video in which she writhed across the hood of a Porsche wearing a white leotard and black, thigh-high boots. She also bought Axl Rose his first kilt.
As for me, well, I was on my way to freshman orientation when this guy I’d been seeing, who’d played a couple of no-name clubs with some friends from summer camp, intercepted me at LAX, put his lips to my ear, and hummed the opening bars of a new song I’d apparently inspired. Instead of boarding the plane for Berkeley, I boarded the tour bus with Luke Cutt and the other skinny, pimply members of Rocket Science. Four world tours, three hit albums, two Grammys, and one breakup later, “Dreama, Little Dreama”—an emo pop anthem that went gold in seven days and has sold eleven million copies to date—had made me almost famous forever.
“Step out of the car, please.”
The cop removed his sunglasses. Peach fuzz. Straight out of the academy. “So.”
He wanted to get a picture with me.
“I’d love to get a picture with you,” he said.
I smoothed down my cut-offs and striped T-shirt, removed my red Ray-Bans, ran my fingers through my long, straight, freshly balayaged auburn hair. The cop put his arm around me, leaned in close, took a couple of snaps on his phone. Let me guess. He’d had a crush on me since tenth grade, when he saw me in a white tank and no bra on the cover of Rocket Science’s debut C.D., and now he was going to post the pictures on Instagram to show all his buddies.
“Awesome.” He gave me a brotherly punch on the arm. “No way is my wife going to believe this. She’s crazy about Luke Cutt. Hey, is he really dating that Victoria’s Secret Angel? She is smoking hot.”
At least I didn’t get the ticket.

Excerpt from Dream A Little Death by Susan Kandel. Copyright © 2017 by Susan Kandel. Reproduced with permission from HarperCollins Publishers. All rights reserved.

Author Bio:

An Agatha, Edgar, and SCIBA nominee, Susan Kandel is the author of the nationally best-selling and critically acclaimed Cece Caruso series, the most recent of which, Dial H for Hitchcock (Morrow), was named by NPR as one of the five best mysteries of the year. A Los Angeles native, she was trained as an art historian, taught at NYU and UCLA, and spent a decade as an art critic at the Los Angeles Times. When not writing, she volunteers as a court-appointed advocate for foster children, and loves to explore secret, forgotten, and kitschy L.A. She lives with her husband in West Hollywood.

Catch Up With Our Author On: Website , Goodreads , Twitter , & Facebook !

 

Tour Participants:

 

Here's Your Chance to WIN!

This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for Susan Kandel and Harper Collins. There will be 5 winners of one (1) eBook copy of Dream A Little Death by Susan Kandel. The giveaway begins on May 23rd and runs through June 27th 2017
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Pen Scratching Poets by Marilyn Benjamin Wassmann Book Tour and Giveaway





Pen Scratching Poets
Marilyn Benjamin Wassmann

Genre: Poetry

Publisher: Author House

Date of Publication: November 1, 2016

ISBN: 978-1-5246-0448-6

Number of pages: 149
Word Count: 22,634

Cover Artist: Marilyn Benjamin Wassmann

Book Description:

Pen Scratching Poets has been described as a delightful book in which the author shares her family’s collection of creative poems.

The poems compilation and art work are by Marilyn B. Wassmann with contributions by members of the Benjamin family and their descendants, with the technical assistance of Paul A. Wassmann.

The book is divided into two sections. The first section, Pen Scratching consists of the poems by Ethel T. Benjamin and her descendants and the second section is Marilyn’s poems.

Amazon      Author House      Abebooks





About the Author:

Marilyn Benjamin Wassmann was born in a leap year.

She earned four degrees: two in Art History, one in Library Science and one in Studio Art.

In 2011, she retired from her work as an art cataloger at the Library of Congress.

Marilyn and her husband, Paul, authored the children’s book, What the Wind Blew In. They live in Hyattsville, Maryland.






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Wednesday, May 24, 2017

It Had To Be You Crystal Valley Book Two by Melissa Kate Book Tour





It Had To Be You
Crystal Valley
Book Two
Melissa Kate


Genre: Contemporary Romance , RomCom

Publisher: Fire Quill Publishing

Date of Publication: 25 April 2017

ISBN:  978-0-9984714-1-9
ASIN: B06ZZ2TPJ9

Number of pages: 200 pages
Word Count: 50 k

Cover Artist: Amy from Q Design

Book Description:

Emma Wyatt has had enough of her ex best friend and his lady killer ways. Gone was the sweet boy of her youth and in rides the womaniser. But this time he has ready gone and done it!

Oliver didn’t expect to be coupled with Emma. She was in an awkward situation and he couldn’t help the words that came out. She should be grateful, he saved her.

Now the whole town knows. And Emma is pissed! She’s going to kill him.

But a heated argument leads to a fiery moment of passion and suddenly the two are fighting an unlikely attraction that neither saw coming. But Oliver has a secret that could tear them apart…

Amazon     BN     Kobo


Excerpt CHAPTER ONE

Emma walked into the Community Center Grand Hall and took in the scene before her. Women of all shapes, sizes, and generations milled around, cocktails in hand. Their hair was perfectly coifed and their makeup impeccable. The pheromones in the air were practically tangible.
A bachelor auction.
How the hell did I get roped into this? she mused.
“Isn’t this exciting?” Her best friend, Audrey, sipped a pink drink with a twirly straw, her eyes wide.
That’s how.
“If you call a bunch of horny women paying for a date with an equally horny man exciting, then no, it’s not particularly thrilling.”
“Oh, stop being Old Mother Hubbard. Besides, it’s for a good cause.”
Emma knew this, of course. The Crystal Valley Homeless Center was an up-and-coming organization that rehabilitated homeless people and helped them get their lives back on track. It wasn’t merely a halfway house. It was a place of refuge that offered people in need a hand up—not just a handout. Emma tried to volunteer at the Center as much as she could, and she knew firsthand how rewarding the experience was. The auction couldn’t have benefited a better cause.
“You and I both know it’s not the auction that’s got your knickers in a twist.” Audrey grinned devilishly as she tossed her dark hair over her shoulder. “It’s that hot hunk of junk over there.”
Emma followed her friend’s gaze to Oliver Kyle—the six-foot-two, sandy-haired Adonis… and the bane of her existence. Emma rolled her eyes, the familiar irritation settling in. “Now why would I let anything Oliver-related have anything to do with my panties?”
“Did I hear my name and your panties in the same sentence?” His deep voice reverberated over her shoulder and sent an unwelcome shiver up her spine.
“Speak of the devil and the demon appears.” She turned to face him and nearly slammed into the rock-solid mass of his chest. When did he get so close to her? Her eyes landed on those firm pecs and traveled up the thick column of his neck, past the deep dimple of his left cheek and into those smug honey-colored eyes.
She squinted at him, hackles raising like an old friend. “Personal space much?”
He leaned in, that overpowering male musk unique to Oliver surrounding her. “Just trying to get closer to those panties, sweetheart.”
The damn jerk had the audacity to wink at her. An actual wink!
“You, Oliver Kyle, are a man-whore and will never get within an inch of my panties.”
“Now, now, Emma, did you just issue a challenge? You know that feistiness just makes me want you more? I like your attitude problem.”
“I don’t have an attitude problem. You have a problem with my attitude. That’s not my problem.”
He gave an arrogant little chuckle.
Emma opened her mouth to unleash some choice words when Audrey stepped between them. “Okay, children, play nice now.”
Oliver reached out and twirled a strand of Emma’s hair around his finger, as though testing its texture. “This isn’t over, Goldilocks. I like a challenge.”
Emma was left to ogle his broad shoulders in his Boss suit before she could formulate a comeback. She fought the urge to stamp her foot like a petulant child.
“Wow, the sexual tension between you two is hot.”
“The only thing hot between us is my palm getting ready to slap his smug face.” Emma grabbed Audrey’s glass and downed her colorful drink.
“Uh huh. And denial is a river in Egypt. What happened between you two anyway?”
“He’s a jackass. A womanizing jackass who is always trying to make a pass at me, but I won’t become a prospect of his.”
“Oh honey, ten minutes with that man and I’m sure he would ruin you for any other man.”
Emma swatted her as they made their way toward a seat near the stage. The cloying smell of cheap perfume of overzealous women lingered in the air, giving Emma an instant headache. Or maybe that was compliments of Mr. Kyle. Audrey didn’t realize how close to home she had hit. Emma and Oliver had been friends during their youth. They had grown up in the same neighborhood and, despite the two-year age gap, had been practically joined at the hip. Till one day, soon after she turned thirteen, he had morphed into someone else and just stopped being her bestie. At first, he had pulled away and Emma had passed it off as part of growing up, but then he stopped being a sweet boy and became a hell-raiser.
Now, at age thirty-two, he was the quintessential bachelor. She wondered if he was up for auction tonight. Not that she would bid on him. No, she had her eye on that sexy fireman, Mike. Besides, she was sure half of Crystal Valley would outbid her even if she did. He was very popular with the ladies.
The lights dimmed suddenly and a hush of anticipation filled the auditorium as hordes of women scrambled to find vacant seats. She could practically feel Audrey bouncing in her chair beside her and although she wouldn’t admit it out loud, it was kind of thrilling. Emma might have a grudge against Oliver Kyle, but she sure did appreciate some of the other fine specimens on display.
The opening beats to Bruno Mars’ “Uptown Funk” started and the crowd went wild as each bachelor walked on stage, decked in suits and looking mouth-watering. The song was fitting; most of the singles were from the police or fire department. The hotness kept coming. How did Crystal Valley have so many hot, single men? Emma caught herself using her auction paddle to fan herself. The men did a few steps in sync to the beat, which greatly amused the audience, before standing single file, hands behind their backs, which only emphasized the chiseled chests and lean hips.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer’s deep voice rang out. “Give it up for the bachelors of Crystal Valleeeey!”
The applause was deafening. Emma found herself adding to the roar. The last time she checked, she was still a warm-blooded female.
“Thank you all for coming tonight and supporting this great cause. These gracious bachelors have volunteered their time and… um, services, to raise funds tonight.” A smattering of nervous giggles peppered the hall. He went on to talk more about the cause as the gents backed offstage.
“Without further ado, ladies, let’s get the ball rolling!”
An upbeat track sounded and one of Oliver’s police buddies strolled on stage, all muscle and sex appeal.
“Ooh la la,” Audrey cooed beside her, barely audible over the roar.
The bachelor walked down the ramp. Every woman alongside it tried to get her hands on some part of him, and he was soaking it up. He grinned devilishly as he swung his hips a few times before strutting back to center stage.
“We will start the bidding at one hundred dollars.”
Dozens of paddles went up. And kept going up as the price increased.
“Why don’t you bid on him?” Audrey nudged, her brown eyes dancing.
“He’s not my type.”
“What? Hot and delicious is everyone’s type. Plus, he has handcuffs.”
She did have a point there. Emma was ready to raise her paddle and place a bid when the announcer called a winner. She swung around in her seat to face the blonde mama who was going to enjoy officer sexy pants. She looked drunk off her ass and horny to boot. They were going to have one hell of a night.
The next beat was the ever-popular and brain-grinding “Gangnam Style.” Emma recognized the bachelor as one of the new kids at the fire department. He couldn’t be more than twenty-two, but he was filling out nicely. He slid out in nothing but his tighty-whities and a shirt. Very Tom Cruise–like. Till he started the “Gangnam Style” dance.
Emma threw her head back and howled. His moves were perfectly in sync and the crowd was lapping it up. Despite the ridiculousness of his act, he sold for nearly three thousand dollars. That date was going to be interesting, to say the least.
The strains of Nelly’s “Hot in Here” blared from the speakers and none other than sexy fireman Mike came strolling out in his fireproof suit—sans shirt.
“Hot tamale.” Emma swallowed. “He’s Hercules.” Mike had a golden tan accentuated by glistening oil slathered on his bare torso. His blond hair was messy and his blue eyes mischievous as he played right into crowd, taking off his shoulder straps and wiggling to the beat, teasing and taunting the ladies with overt sexuality.
Emma had to tear her eyes away when she realized that the bidding war had begun and were already a grand up. She raised her paddle but was immediately challenged by a brunette two rows down. Emma needed this. It had been two years since she had a decent date, and small-town gossip had it that Mike was a decent guy. He was stable, honest, faithful, and unbelievably sexy to boot. Emma was a traditional girl and wasn’t comfortable making the first move on a guy, but with the veil of the auction for charity, it was the perfect excuse to match herself up with Mike. She needed to pick up her life after the drama with the mayor’s son.
“We have one thousand five hundred dollars. Do we have one thousand six hundred?”
Emma raised her paddle. And so it continued till the bidding went up to two grand. Fireman Mike was sure noticing her now.
“Going once…”
Emma felt a grin spreading on her face. She was going to win.
“Going twice…”
“Three thousand dollars!” The brunette outbid her. How the hell?
Before Emma could recover, the announcer slammed his gavel and fireman Mike was gone, snatched from her clutches.
Audrey giggled beside her. “Well, that was entertaining.”
Emma huffed. “How embarrassing! Now everyone knows I got a thing for the fireman god.”
“Trust me. Nobody is noticing anything except the male hotness here tonight.”
“I hope so.” She signaled the waiter for another cocktail. She needed a drink to overcome the mortification.
The evening passed with suitor after suitor gracing the stage, and each time the adoration never dimmed. From scantily clad to suave, funny to serious, the men were different in their own right. Yet none of the others appealed to her enough to raise her paddle again.
She was about to call it a night when the emcee announced the last bid for the night. A fun tune sounded and Emma sat up, wondering who would be gracing the stage. She felt her jaw go slack when the thorn in her side came out on stage, still in his Boss suit. His shirt was unbuttoned beneath his suit jacket, and the peekaboo of his bronze torso flirted with every woman in the auditorium. His mirrored aviators sat on the bridge of his nose, shielding what she was sure was a sex-promised gaze. His sandy hair was mussed up like he had run his hands through it, or more likely some woman had. His pants curved his strong buttocks, emphasizing the muscle and strength. Emma felt her throat go dry. The music played a sexy tune and, almost in slow motion, Oliver put his hand in his pants pocket, moving aside his coat and shirt and revealing an honest-to-God eight-pack.
The crowd went wild. Emma coughed. When the hell did he get those? She didn’t even know eight-packs existed, and here he was baring those washboard abs like he was born with them. His lips tilted in a sexy grin, revealing that naughty dimple.
“Ladies and gentlemen, let’s start the bidding at one hundred dollars!”
Paddles went up all around the room. Emma took a sweep through at the faces that could potentially be sharing Oliver’s bed tonight. Just about everyone bid, including the more vibrant male variety of Crystal Valley. Emma smiled at that, knowing that would throw the smug playboy for a loop.
The response was loud. The bidding was fast and quick, and already up to three thousand dollars. Mr. Kyle was clearly in demand. It looked like Malibu Barbie was going to win him after all.
“Five thousand dollars!”
The crowd was stunned into silence at the sudden bid. The announcer called it. And looked right at Emma.
Huh?
She turned to Audrey, then noticed that she had grabbed Emma’s arm, paddle in hand, and bid. Audrey grinned widely and shrugged nonchalantly.
Emma turned back to the stage, her face draining of color as she stared at Oliver, who looked like the Cheshire cat.

“What have you done?” she whispered.

About the Author:


Melissa Kate is a self-confessed book-a-holic who lives in a small town along the coast in sunny South Africa. She writes contemporary romance with quirky characters and witty banter; a true romantic at heart, she loves the moment of falling in love. Her pet Beagle and maniacal lovebird keep her company while writing and often inspire senseless moments in her stories.

When she’s not furiously tapping away on her laptop, Melissa can be found laughing away with her husband (who happens to be her pre-school sweetheart… you just know there’s a story there) or scouring online stores for additions to her ever growing stiletto collection (ehm addiction).

She balances her day job and conjuring up new romantic tales with a local personal blog with arb ramblings about her life in Durban.


http://www.melissakatebooks.com/


https://twitter.com/MelissaKate_1


https://www.facebook.com/melissakatebooks
 

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Tuesday, May 23, 2017

Lady Knight The Knight Case Book One by T. Nathan Mosley Book Tour and Giveaway




Lady Knight
The Knight Case
Book One
T. Nathan Mosley

Genre: Fantasy/Urban Fantasy

Date of Publication: January 27th, 2017

ISBN: 9781520470863
ASIN: B01N26OWAV

Number of pages: 229
Word Count: 84,819

Cover Artist: Ruben G. Ramos

Book Description:

Detective Cameron Knight does not believe in magic. It's kind of hard to when you're a single(-ish) mother in a high stress job that pulls you from bed at all hours of the night. One of these nights, though, Cameron encounters a magician. Not one of those guys who pulls rabbits out of hats, but a real, true magician. Of course she doesn't believe it. Until Mathias reveals to her a world that is full of magic, Knights, kings, and more.

Following the writings of one of the most powerful magicians to have ever lived, Mathias escaped to Earth, running from Knight Captain Emil Rouland. Emil has been tasked with bringing Mathias before the King of Draeca to face the King's justice.

But Marek, a magician and enemy of Mathias, has other ideas. He sees this as his big break to finally exact his revenge on Mathias and become the hero he's always wanted to be. Little do they all know, however, the cost of traveling between Earth and Draeca has a terrible cost.

The fate of both worlds will hang in the balance as Vee, a being of immense power and evil, plots to conquer one, or both, of the worlds.
  

Excerpt:
"We found someone - a man. He's... not quite right, and he's got this weird costume on. Said he knew about the explosion. Thought you'd want to try talking to him." The kid said. Cameron exchanged a look with Kim and pulled the cigarette from her mouth, sighing. It would have to wait.
"Alright, where is he?" Kim said.
"Over talking to the paramedics, they're saying it's dementia, uh, maybe caused by shock or something. I'm not a doctor."
"That's what we pay them the big bucks for. Good work, uh..." Cameron inspected the officer's name badge, "Officer Winsley. Off you go." Cameron nodded to him and patted him on the shoulder as she blew past him, heading for the ambulance. The 'costume' Winsley had reported was actually a set of long, flowing green and gold robes that draped off the man. A heavy cloak was set about the man's shoulders, and he spoke calmly to one of the paramedics as they asked him questions.
"My eyesight is perfectly fine, madam. This is the third time you've put that lightstick into my face - I kindly request that you cease immediately." The man said, and the paramedic looked to the detectives with a shrug.
"He checks out. No signs of drug use that I can see, physically healthy, just..." The paramedic made a spinning motion with her hand, one finger pointing at her head. "He's all yours." She said.
The man stood as the detectives approached, his head bowing to them so deeply it bent his shoulders and torso towards them. "I know not who you are, but please allow me to thank you for getting that... vulture, away from me. Poking and prodding with her..." he waved a hand, "instruments." The man was strikingly handsome, and Cameron couldn't help but notice how focused and intense his blue eyes were as he regarding them. His black hair was slicked back with some sort of gel, and it was cut close to his head - just long enough to be styled and flare out slightly behind his ears and along the back of his neck.
"That's her job." Kim said as Cameron took the time to light her cigarette, puffing on it as Kim continued, "She's a paramedic. She wanted to make sure you were okay."
"Ah, a healer! I beg pardon, I did not understand her ways, and this word... 'paramedic'. It is foreign to me," he said, a look of worry crossing his face. "Please, assure her I am quite alright. Perfect in all of my faculties," he paused as Kim and Cameron shared another look, "Well, except, I cannot seem to find my staff, but it will turn up sooner or later I suppose."
"Alright, cut it out. Enough of the jokes," Cameron said, and the man frowned at her in confusion, "How about we start from the beginning. Who are you, what are you doing here, and what do you know about the explosion?"
The man's face brightened some, and he swept into a low bow, leg forward and one hand on his chest as the other swept out to one side. "I am Mathias, Lord of the House of Relain, personal magician to His Majesty King Lerrad Olmsith of the Kingdom of Draeca, and..." Mathias frowned, "Well, that is who I used to be. I am now an outlaw by decree of King Lerrad, but I suppose that is not what you are inquiring about. I brought myself here as I was fleeing from his soldiers - you understand I am sure, it is difficult to corner a magician," he finished with a wink at Kim.
Cameron put a hand on Kim's arm as she took a long drag from her cigarette, stopping Kim from decking the wacko. "Alright, let me get this straight. You're, what, some sort of wizard? And you want us to believe that you brought yourself here, using..."
"Magic, yes, of course. The signs are evident," Mathias said, nodding towards the warehouse. "My apologies about the, ah, building there. An unintended side effect of my hastily constructed spell. I believe in my haste I may have made a mistake in the incantation. It would also explain the disappearance of my staff..." He said, his tone turning thoughtful as he spoke.
"Can you give us a moment?" Cameron asked.
"But of course," Mathias said, bowing his head towards them again.
The detectives stepped away from the man and Cameron dropped her cigarette, smashing it into the pavement with her shoe. "Okay. What the hell." She said.
"He's clearly lost his mind. The explosion knocked him into something and he snapped," Kim said.
"He didn't have a mark on him, Kim. No dust, no ash, nothing," Cameron pointed out.
"Well, okay, but - wait, you're not saying you actually believe him?"
"No, of course not! Magic and spells and kings... Ridiculous, of course. Okay, how about this: He sets a bomb, gets clear, and then the shock of what he's done makes him conjure some crazy fantasy."
"What, like repression or something?" Kim said, glancing back at Mathias - if that was even his name. He was standing patiently, watching them with his hyper-focused eyes and his hands clasped behind his back.
"Yeah. Maybe it started before he even knew what he was doing. Got caught up in his fantasy and doesn't really know what's going on."
"Okay. Works for me. How do we handle him?"

"Play along, for now." Cameron said, frowning towards Mathias. He returned her frown with a wide, toothless grin. She looked back at Kim and sighed, pulling another cigarette from her pocket. "It's gonna be a long night."

About the Author:

T. Nathan Mosley was born and raised in Woodstock, Georgia. He is an avid fantasy and science fiction fan and gamer. He lives in Roanoke, Virginia with his two cats and dog that he tries constantly to avoid spoiling too much. His primary genres include general fantasy and urban fantasy, though he has played with the idea of science fiction on occasion. He is currently studying to become a professor of mathematics.



Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Tnmosleybooks/



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