Search This Blog

Friday, 30 March 2018

RELEASE BLITZ, REVIEWS & #GIVEAWAY - Disjointed Lives by Morgan Sheppard



Genre:

Contemporary, Women's Fiction, Novella

Promotions Manager, Ava Reese, has all she ever wanted: a fantastic husband, a great job, a good life. But her past haunts her. 

Although she thought she had left the darkness behind long ago, her dreams start to haunt her during the day, making her question everything she has.

Ava hopes that meeting with her best friend, Paige, will help her find peace again. Can they put Ava’s dreams to rest, or will the past destroy everything Ava has so carefully built?


Add to 

Goodreads  |  BookLikes  |  Smashbomb





Universal Purchase Link







5 out of 5 (exceptional)


Disjointed Lives is the first non-fantasy story from Morgan Sheppard. It is only a short story, based around two friends meeting for coffee, and one of them needing help. It does mention gas lighting and mental/emotional abuse, but without going into too much detail.

One of the things that is becoming clear is that Morgan Sheppard writes character based stories. The world building is very good, but what gives these stories the emotion behind them, is the characters. They are completely relate-able, with foibles and quirks that readers will recognise in themselves and those they know.

Whether you like fantasy or contemporary/women's fiction, I would definitely recommend this book, and others by this author.

* A copy of this book was provided to me with no requirements for a review. I voluntarily read this book, and the comments here are my honest opinion. *

Merissa
Archaeolibrarian - I Dig Good Books!

5 out of 5 (exceptional)


Independent Reviewer for Archaeolibrarian - I Dig Good Books!


Imagine meeting your best friend for coffee and telling her something that happened ten years before, something that could possibly cost you her friendship. 

Because, at it's most basic, that's what this is: two old friends, best friends, meeting for coffee and Ava has to tell Paige something that happened ten years ago, when they were estranged, something that she NEEDS to say, but knows that Paige might not, hell, she WON'T like it, but she needs to know. 

At it's most complex?? It's the story of a woman who falls in love with an abusive partner and her fight to get out and away from that partner. The abuse is not physical, it's emotional, it's mental, it is total in it's destruction of Ava of old. It is total in cutting Ava off from everything and everyone she knows. It reduces her to a woman who, while maybe at the back of her mind knows that what is happening to her is not right, this marriage is not how it should be, she cannot be anything else but his wife. She knows no one will want her, because James tells her so. 

But Ava finds a friend at work who is not letting her wallow, is not letting go, and Jacob helps Ava. And Ava has been dreaming about Jacob, which is what prompted this coffee shop meeting, and it all coming tumbling out of Ava. 

It is beautifully written, painful reading though. While not told in great detail, there is some reference to Ava's abuse, to what James did, what he made her do. I had to keep putting it down, it made me cry in many places. It's not very long, but because I had to keep putting it down,  it took me all day to read the 67 pages here. But so beautifully written!

 Cutting extremely close to home on two fronts. 

Because someone close to me went through what Ava did, but her abuse was physical, as well as mental. I watched her cutting us off, one by one, those closest to her first, and then spreading out, just as his tentacles spread out. And there was nothing we could do to stop it. We tried, oh Lord we tried, but she was in love. We had to wait til she came to the same conclusion, and wait for her to act on her own. She did. It just took a bit of time. 

And because I know Ava, because I AM Paige. Finding out a wonderful day spent in amazing company last October was the inspiration for this book made me cry. Made me feel incredibly proud to be part of this book, made me feel incredibly proud of Ms Sheppard. 

I cannot express, not really, how much this book affected me. But you should know that...

IT
IS
AMAZING!

5 full and shiny stars

**same worded review will appear elsewhere**

* A copy of this book was provided to me with no requirements for a review. I voluntarily read this book, and the comments here are my honest opinion. *


5 out of 5 (exceptional)


Independent Reviewer for Archaeolibrarian - I Dig Good Books!


This was quite the change of page for Author Morgan Sheppard. It was a fast-paced quick read but don’t fret, still included quite a bit of detail. It was an enjoyable read and I was quite pleased with her work.

Although this story is quite short, most definitely falling in the novella category, it packs quite the detail. This is the first book that isn’t fantasy related by this author so one of two things were going to come from this, a great success or a tried failure. I think it falls in the great success category. I read the story in one sitting, it held my attention, and kept me reading. Although this story isn’t classed as a romance I think it carries a romantic undertone of sorts. Women’s literature really isn’t my genre of sorts but I think this book might have changed that.

This story has some pretty heavy, dark, sad moments. They are thought provoking and maddening at the same time. They will have you mean mugging your kindle, book, or whatever you’re reading on. Other times it was refreshing, uplifting, and quite enjoyable. Be prepared for an emotional roller coaster and you might just want to have a Kleenex by your side.

 I don’t know if the author has any plans to write a novel following this novella, but I think there could be a great story to tell. It will just give me one more reason to follow this author and keep up with her works.

I would recommend giving this novella a read. I think you’ll enjoy it.

* A copy of this book was provided to me with no requirements for a review. I voluntarily read this book, and the comments here are my honest opinion. *

one ebook of Disjointed Lives by Morgan Sheppard - ends 20th April (Int)



Blurb for MARELLA

Marella has grown up on the Isle of Wraidd Elfennol, where humans, animals, and the very Elements live in harmony together.

Since she was a youngling, Marella has wanted to become a Water Weaver, gifted in hydromancy. At thirteen years old, she will go to the main village of Charon to take her Test, and find out which of the Elements she is strongest in. This will also determine her future.

Marella’s best friend, Daren, is also going for his Test. They have shared many adventures together, as their families spent rest days together.

Yet when the day comes where their fates will be decided, doubts and insecurities creep into Marella’s mind.


What happens when you don’t get what you wish for? And what happens if you do? 

Goodreads  |  BookLikes  |  Purchase Link 


Blurb for WATER WEAVER

The Isle of Wraidd Elfennol is a place balanced by the four elements of nature – Earth, Air, Fire, and Water. The essence of each element is contained within a sacred artefact, helping to keep the balance of life.

At the Summer Solstice celebration, the Lords and Ladies of the Elements announce their artefacts are missing. A human and animal partnership is Chosen for each Element, to find the missing artefacts and help restore the balance.

Together, they embark on a quest to find the missing artefacts. As the world around them changes, danger lurks with every challenge the group must face.

Time is not on their side as their quest must be completed before a year and a day has passed.

Rejoin the World of Wraidd Elfennol as Marella and Nixie, the Chosen of Water, learn how to work with those of the other Elements.

GoodreadsBookLikes  |   Purchase Link 


Blurb for OF LAND AND SKY

The balance of the Elements is once more in doubt, and new Chosen are called. They need to find the will to succeed, or the unseen enemy from years gone by may have the advantage.

The Wheel of the Year has had many cycles - and the folk of Wraidd Elfennol have lived in peace since the age of Marella, Kai, Daren, and Lani. All the Elements have been in perfect harmony with each other.

All that is about to change, with new Chosen called to represent their Element and to find nine sacred branches.

Bran and Rhosyn need to work together to restore the balance between Earth and Air… and maybe find out just who they are meant to be.

Full of myth and magic, with a strong Welsh theme, Of Land and Sky continues the Fantasy series set in the imaginary world of Wraidd Elfennol.

Goodreads  |  BookLikes  |  Purchase Link


Originally from the United Kingdom, Morgan Sheppard now resides in Germany, although she freely admits to having part of her heart left in Wales. Morgan is the author of the fantasy series, World of Wraidd Elfennol, and also the contemporary, women’s fiction novella, Disjointed Lives. 

Whilst a writer mainly in the fantasy genre, Morgan is more than happy to share her love of reading amongst the many different genres out there, and can always be found with a book close by.

As well as reading and writing, Morgan spends her time looking after her family and trying to learn German. Unfortunately, a natural aptitude for languages doesn’t appear to be one of her strong points. However, stubbornness is, so she continues to persevere. So far, Morgan is confident enough to order a beer and a pretzel.

Feel free to email her at MorganJSheppard@gmail.com or stalk her online on Facebook, Twitter, and Tumblr.

You can also subscribe to her mailing list here, and get a #FREE copy of Marella, the book that started the World of Wraidd Elfennol series: 
http://goo.gl/tSSUPs

Amazon  |  AUTHORSdb  |  BookBub  |  BookLikes  |  Facebook (Group)  |  Facebook (Page)  |  Goodreads  |  Google+  |  Smashwords  |  Tumblr  |  Twitter  |  Website

Thursday, 29 March 2018

BLURB BLITZ, EXCERPT & #GIVEAWAY - For This Moment (The Gentrys of Paradise #3) by Holly Bush



GENRE

Historical Romance

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
                 

BLURB:

1871 - Born to privilege and duty in Virginia, Olivia Gentry comes of age as women begin to find their social and political independence. She has been raised and educated to carry on the Gentry family’s successful horse breeding stables with her brothers at Paradise, their family home. Having been deceived in love as a young woman and unsure of her instincts, she is wary to commit to a marriage, but she cannot deny her long-buried feelings for a family friend.

Jim Somerset has been in love with Olivia Gentry from the moment she gazed up at him as a young girl. A farrier by trade like his father before him, he and his business’s future are inexorably entwined with the Gentry family. He has watched her be courted by statesmen, and considers her and her goals out of the reach of a common workman, like himself.  But he is fearful that he will never rid Olivia from his mind and from his heart. Has the moment come for him to reveal his passions for her? Find out in the third installment of the Gentrys of Paradise.

Add to Goodreads  |  BookLikes




“You must tell me,” Jim Somerset said finally when he could no longer be silent. “Has someone hurt you? What has happened? Shall I take you to Matt or Adam?”

Olivia’s face reddened and she shook her head. But her eyes stopped and widened at something over his shoulder. He looked back and saw Richard Armsworth staring at her.

“Do not bow your head. Look up at me and smile even though it’s not what you wish to do,” he said softly.

She responded to him with a tentative smile, her hand quivering against his palm. She was a singularly beautiful woman. She was dressed in a gown the color of honey, accentuating her dark red hair and matching the pale freckles across her nose. It was then he noticed a tear in the fabric of her dress, a few threads sticking out at odd angles, at the corner of her squared neckline. She looked down to where he was looking and peered up at him with panicked eyes. He danced her right out of the large, open double doors at the back of the hall, and to the deserted side of the building.

“Why is your dress torn? What has happened?”

“Nothing . . . I can’t . . . nothing.” But she was gulping for breath and did not finish her words.

“Armsworth? It’s Armsworth, isn’t it. Has he hurt you?”

She grabbed his forearms. “Don’t do anything. Please.”

His skin itched with the desire to do violence. His heart was beating hard in his ears and his fists were clenched. But she was pleading with him, and he didn’t have the heart to deny her anything, especially when she was in such a state.





Universal Link



Follow the tour and comment; the more you comment, the better your chances of winning. The tour dates can be found HERE



Holly Bush will be awarding a $25 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.



Holly Bush writes historical romance set in the U.S.in the late 1800’s, in Victorian England, and and occasional Women’s Fiction title. Her books are described as emotional, with heartfelt, sexy romance. She makes her home with her husband in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.  Connect with Holly at www.hollybushbooks.com and on Twitter @hollybushbooks and on Facebook at Holly Bush.

http://www.amazon.com/Holly-Bush/e/B006ZDTQ1A/


Tour Organised by: Goddess Fish Promotions 


Wednesday, 28 March 2018

BLOG TOUR & #GIVEAWAY - Esher (Guardians of Hades #3) by Felicity Heaton



Esher (Guardians of Hades Paranormal Romance Series Book 3) by Felicity Heaton – Book Tour and Giveaway!




Esher (Guardians of Hades Series Book 3)

Prince of the Underworld and Lord of Water, Esher was banished from his home by his father, Hades, two centuries ago and given a new duty and purpose—to keep our world and his from colliding in a calamity foreseen by the Moirai.

Together with his six brothers, he fights to defend the gates to the Underworld from daemons bent on breaching them and gaining entrance to that forbidden land, striving to protect his home from their dark influence. Tormented by his past, Esher burns with hatred towards mortals and bears a grudge against Hades for forcing him into their world, condemning him to a life of battling to keep a fragile hold on his darker side—a side that wants to kill every human in the name of revenge.

Until he finds himself stepping in to save a female—a beautiful mortal filled with light and laughter who draws him to her as fiercely as the pull of the moon, stirring conflict in his heart and rousing dangerous needs long forgotten.

Aiko knows from the moment she sets eyes on the black-haired warrior that he is no ordinary man, just as she’s no ordinary woman. Blessed with a gift, she can see through his stormy fa├žade to the powerful god beneath, and the pain and darkness that beats inside him—pain she grows determined to heal as she falls deeper under his spell and into his world.

When the daemon bent on turning Esher against his brothers makes her move, will Esher find the strength to overcome his past and fulfil his duty, or will the lure of revenge allow the darkness in his heart to seize control, transforming him into a god intent on destroying the world?


Add to Goodreads




Amazon.com | Amazon.co.uk | Amazon.ca | Amazon.com.auiBooks USA | iBooks UK | iBooks Canada | iBooks Australia | iBooks New ZealandBarnes and Noble | Kobo Books | Google Play




Enter the grand tour-wide giveaway to win a $75, $50 or $25 Amazon Gift Card at the Esher book page. This giveaway is international and open to everyone, and ends at midnight on April 8th. Enter now: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/guardians-of-hades-esher-paranormal-romance-book.php




Flames licked over Esher’s left side and he grunted as he clutched it through his coat and grey-blue shirt. Waves of heat rolled through him, each stronger than the last. He gritted his teeth as his vision wobbled, shadows dancing across the alley before him, swirling around the corpses and drifting towards him.
No.
He wasn’t sick now. He was safe. Healed. The intense burning in his side mocked him, screamed that he wasn’t healed, was far from it. The wraith’s blade had done more damage than anyone had suspected, and more than Ares’s female could mend. He could feel it. It had been weeks since the attack, and his body could heal even the most vicious of injuries in less than a day. He should have healed by now, but the pain lingered, came in sharp bursts from time to time to remind him that he had let his guard down and paid the ultimate price.
Or he would have, if a mortal hadn’t saved him.
He chuckled through his gritted teeth at that.
“You won’t be laughing in a minute.” The male voice came from behind him and Esher heard other words, in another male’s deep voice.
Give your sister my regards.
Fiery agony streaked across his side, just as it had that night in that heart-stopping moment before everything had gone black, but this time the flames licked at his right side, just below his ribs.
He grunted as the pain combined with the lingering effect of the wraith’s blade, stripping more of his strength from him. The shadows scattered as he growled and focused on the male behind him now, not the one who had been there on that rooftop almost two months ago.
Esher raised his right arm and slammed his elbow into the male’s cheek, and grunted in time with him as the daemon was knocked sideways and his blade scraped over bone before sucking free of Esher’s flesh. Heat spread down Esher’s side, and he clamped his left hand down over the wound, spun on his heel and grabbed the male by his throat.
He kicked hard, shoving the male into the concrete wall of one of the buildings with enough force to break bone. The male screamed as several of them shattered and choked on blood that burst from his lips, coating them. Water streamed over his face as the rain fell harder, so thick and fast that it created a wall around them, shutting out the world.
Esher reined in his hunger, breathing hard as he wrestled with the need to butcher the male and then turn his sights on anyone else in the vicinity. He focused on each breath, his hand shaking against the daemon’s throat with a need to reach into the breast pocket of his grey-blue shirt and pull out the noise-cancelling earbuds. He needed the quiet, the solitude. He needed to let the strings wash over him and sweep the world away.
He could have it, but first he had to ease back on the daemon’s throat and do what he had promised to do.
“Who sent you?” Information.
He and his brothers had all agreed to get information out of any daemon that dared attempt to reach their gate, but Esher had forgotten all about it when the female daemon had clawed and bitten him when he had caught them near it, drawing blood and pissing him off.
Toying with the bitch had become priority one, shortly followed by killing her.
Getting information hadn’t even ranked.
It was a miracle he wasn’t bursting the male daemon like the pustule he was and was instead attempting to get something out of him.
Although, it seemed he had failed to rein his temper in quickly enough.
The male sagged in his grip, his weight tugging Esher’s arm down and sending a fresh wave of pain rolling up it from the cut on his forearm.
Esher huffed and discarded the dead male.
The rain eased enough that he could see the female.
His brothers wouldn’t be pleased that he had killed them both, but they would understand when he told them he had done his best. He wasn’t the only brother with a habit of forgetting to get information. So far, Daimon was in the lead. His younger brother had killed almost fifty percent of the daemons who had attempted to get through the Hong Kong gate, only remembering after they were frozen popsicles or shattered into meaty pieces that he was meant to beat information out of them before killing them.
Esher drew his hand away from his right side and frowned at the blood coating his palm. It caught the light of the narrow signs that jutted out from each building, running their entire height to mark what was on each floor, and reflected white, red and yellow back at him.
The wound would heal rapidly, not like the wraith wound, but he would have to conserve his strength until it had knitted back together, which meant he couldn’t teleport home. Stepping, as he and his brothers called it, would drain him, and it was only just gone one in the morning, meaning there were still another four or five hours of darkness in which another daemon could attempt to find the gate.
Or a Hellspawn, one of the accepted species in his father’s eyes and one allowed to enter the Underworld via the gates, could call on him to open it.
So, he would have to do the unthinkable.
Public transport.
He ground his molars and reached into the breast pocket of his shirt, tugged the tiny headphones out and jammed them into his ears. Instantly, the soothing melody of Bach filled him, swamping the song of the rain and the grating noise of Tokyo.
Esher took a few deep breaths, giving the beautiful classical piece time to do its work, and then trudged forwards, past the two dead daemons. He didn’t look at the dead mortal as he passed the male, kept moving onwards on auto-pilot, slowly constructing a wall of calm inside himself, a barrier that would shut the world out and allow him to venture down into the train station and tolerate the presence of the mortals as they surrounded him.
Crowded him.
As the strings rose, he spotted the airplane-wing canopy that stretched above the central entrance of Tokyo station, extending from the glass skyscraper to its right. Clouds swirled around the top of the towering structure, glowing yellow from the city lights. The rain continued to pour, soothing Esher as much as the music, but as he approached the entrance and the number of mortals rose, hurrying to catch the last trains, his grip on calm began to weaken.
He could do this.
He balled his right hand into a fist, and grimaced as the cut across his forearm stung as his muscles flexed beneath it, a flash of fire that tested him. He breathed deep, letting the flare of irritation fade without affecting his mood.
He was calm. In control.
Calm. Control.
Esher breathed through it, steeled himself and moved forwards, avoiding the busier paths into the building.
It was only a short trip. Barely fifteen minutes. He could do this.
A mortal female passed close to him and he tensed, his breath seizing in his throat as he leaned to avoid her even though she was more than ten feet away.
Breathe.
Calm. Control.
Keras would fucking kill him if he lost his shit and caused a bloodbath. His oldest brother had lectured him more than once about playing nice around the weak little mortals. By the gods, he tried. He could almost tolerate them now. He had even managed to speak with some when he was feeling strong, able to cope with breathing the same air as them.
But he wasn’t feeling strong.
The coppery odour of blood clouded his senses, tugging at his memories, and it was hard to keep them shut out, to hold the wall of calm in place.
He shoved the bloodied fingers of his right hand through the longer lengths of his black hair, pushing the damp strands out of his face, and scrubbed at the shorter sides.
He could do this.
He took another step towards the building, a pressing sense of urgency building inside him and driving him to move as he picked up the warning over the public-address system. It was last train time.
Now or never.
He froze as a male passed him, flicking a glance his way that turned into a double-take before he pivoted on his heel and hurried away from the station.
Esher touched his face, drew his hand away and looked at his fingers. Black smeared their pads. Daemon blood.
He huffed, grabbed the handkerchief he always kept in the back pocket of his dark blue jeans and wiped the blood away, scrubbing his neck and face, and then his hand to clear it of both daemon and his own blood.
It took barely a second for the blood to roll back down to his fingers. He buttoned his coat to hide the crimson stain on his shirt, tugged the sleeve back and wrapped the handkerchief around his forearm, covering the wound there. It would have to do.
The last of the mortals ran into the building ahead of him.
Esher strode towards it, his left hand closing over his right side again as the wound below his ribs burned. He pressed hard against it, stopping the flow of blood down his side, and trudged forwards, moving as quickly as he could manage.
The lights inside the station stung his eyes and he lowered his head, letting the hand-length ribbons of his black hair fall forwards over his brow to shield them. He kept his head bent as he hurried past the closed shops towards the Yamanote Line. It would stop at Yoyogi Park and he could walk from there. The streets in that neighbourhood would be quiet.
Unlike the immense room around him.
Someone almost ran into him as they rushed towards the ticket barriers, and he bared his teeth at their back. Keras would have to forgive him if someone bumped him, because he wasn’t sure he had the strength to stop himself from hurting them.
It was leaking from him as he passed his bloodied right hand over the card reader on the barrier, using his abilities to force it to open for him. It swung open and he passed through, scanned the area ahead of him and spotted the sign for the line. It was further than he remembered. He was going to have to use a little bit of power to make it to the train.
Not stepping. Just running.
He clutched his side and sprinted, passing the mortals with ease, and reached the platform just as the last train pulled in. He boarded at the first door, and moved down through the carriages until he found one that was quiet.
The seats near the next car were empty, so he slumped into them, arranging himself in a way that put off the mortals who were eyeing the spot beside him. He looked at his bloodied hand, felt a few mortals glancing there too, and then moving away. He was tempted to wipe it on his jacket, but since it was acting as a nice deterrent, he kept it on show. Another barrier to keep the mortals at bay.
He couldn’t believe he had been reduced to using public transport. He eyed a few of the humans, issuing glares to the braver ones who looked as if they might chance it and sit beside him on the three-seater bench. Wretched creatures. The wall of calm cracked a little, and he drew in a deep breath. Mistake. His right ribs protested, a sharp pain echoing along them from the wound, worsening his mood and adding a few more cracks to the wall.
He closed his eyes as the train pulled away, meaning to shut out the crowded carriage so he could claw back the calm.
Not meaning to fall asleep.
He woke with a jolt as the train rounded a bend, and his black eyebrows pinched in a frown as he swept his blue gaze around the carriage. It was almost empty.
“Fuck,” he muttered and peered out of the window, trying to see where he was as he silently berated himself for succumbing to sleep around so many humans. They weren’t to be trusted. Fuck knew how many of them might have taken the opportunity to kill him if they had known what he was.
Building after building whizzed past outside, none of them standing out to him. The damned city looked the same no matter where he went in it. He rubbed his tired eyes and squinted at the display screen above the doors. Broken. Just his luck.
Had he missed his stop?
He looked at the two people in his carriage, assessing them, and then squeezed his hand over his side as he leaned forwards and looked to his left, into the next one. Five people in that one, none of them a threat.
He leaned back into the padded seat.
A shriek rose from his left.
Esher edged forwards again and glared into the next carriage. A petite raven-haired female with bunches and a fringe that cut a straight line above her eyebrows swatted at a male with her black backpack. Her thick-soled patent leather shoes skidded on the floor of the car as she swung again, causing her short black dress to rise up and reveal the tops of her stripy black and white stockings.
A little Lolita with a vicious streak.
Or a terrified little Lolita.
He canted his head, trying to figure out which one it was, and growing increasingly annoyed and disgusted with everyone in her carriage as they all pretended not to notice her plight.
“Chikan!” Pervert.
A public transport one in particular.
The male grabbed her again, snapping his hand tight around her delicate wrist.
Still no one moved to help her.
Why the fuck was he forced to protect a people who cared nothing about their own kind? No Hellspawn or god would tolerate this female’s cries.
She battered the male again, but the bastard pulled her towards him, undeterred.
Esher growled and shoved to his feet, not pausing to consider what he was about to do.
He was going to save a human for the first time in his life.



Amazon.com | Amazon.co.uk | Amazon.ca | Amazon.com.auiBooks USA | iBooks UK | iBooks Canada | iBooks Australia | iBooks New ZealandBarnes and Noble | Kobo Books | Google Play




Book 4: Marek – Coming in 2018




Felicity Heaton is a New York Times and USA Today international best-selling author writing passionate paranormal romance books. In her books, she creates detailed worlds, twisting plots, mind-blowing action, intense emotion and heart-stopping romances with leading men that vary from dark deadly vampires to sexy shape-shifters and wicked werewolves, to sinful angels and hot demons! If you're a fan of paranormal romance authors Lara Adrian, J R Ward, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Gena Showalter and Christine Feehan then you will enjoy her books too.

If you love your angels a little dark and wicked, the best-selling Her Angel series is for you. If you like strong, powerful, and dark vampires then try the Vampires Realm series or any of her stand-alone vampire romance books. If you’re looking for vampire romances that are sinful, passionate and erotic then try the best-selling Vampire Erotic Theatre series. Or if you prefer huge detailed worlds filled with hot-blooded alpha males in every species, from elves to demons to dragons to shifters and angels, then take a look at the new Eternal Mates series.

If you want to know more about Felicity, or want to get in touch, you can find her at the following places:

WEBSITE | BLOG | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | GOODREADS | INSTAGRAM


Tuesday, 27 March 2018

VBT, EXCERPT, GUEST POST & #GIVEAWAY - Moonlight City Drive by Brian Paone

GENRE

Crime/Thriller, Romantic Paranormal

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
                

BLURB:

11:18 p.m. Subject is checking into the Desert Palms Motel, accompanied by an unknown female.

Snapshot in the parking lot. Man and woman embrace. Betrayal, I see it every day, like my own reflection in the mirror staring back at me. Another case, another bottle of booze, life is no longer a mystery to me …

… Because I’m the private eye, hot on your trail; the top gun for hire. You’ll find me lurking in the shadows, always searching for a clue. I’m the bulletproof detective. I got my eye on you …

What’s a little sin under the covers, what’s a little blood between lovers? What’s a little death to be discovered, cold stiff body under the covers?

I’m digging you a desert grave, underneath the burning sun. You won’t be found by anyone. Vultures circle in the sky, and you, my dear, are the reason why.

… I was always easily influenced.

Add to Goodreads  |  BookLikes


Smith spit out another peanut shell onto his Chevy’s floorboard as his gaze stayed trained on the Desert Palms Motel’s front entrance. His fingers instinctively found the opened bag in the complete darkness and pinched another nut. He squeezed his eyes closed to ward off the simmering residual headache from the most recent blackout. The sound of the rain pelting the windshield was soothing.

“Come on. Where are you? You took the last two nights off. I can’t imagine you being on vacation.”

Headlights turning into the parking lot diverted his attention from the motel’s front door. He squinted to decipher the make and model of the vehicle through the downpour. A Bentley. He sighed and returned his focus to the motel as he fingered the brim of his newly purchased replacement fedora and then tossed it next to him in frustration.

Smith removed his revolver from his shoulder holster and checked that all six chambers were loaded for the umpteenth time. He secured the weapon and grabbed the small notebook from underneath his discarded fedora, lying on the passenger seat, where Wynn should be sitting. But she had maintained radio silence throughout the past two days since storming from Hank’s office. He shook his head in disgust for letting Wynn’s drama distract him from the job at hand.

He swiped the Chevy’s dashboard with his palm to clean off the thick layer of dust that had collected from months of neglect. He wiped his hands on his pants, leaving a graying smear across the fabric covering his thighs. He reached into his trench coat’s inner pocket and removed a silver flask. He opened the top and looked at the engraved insignia on the front. His index finger traced the shining eyeball hanging freely in the cut-out middle of a pyramid. Taking a swig from the decorated flask, he grimaced as the brown liquid hit the back of his throat.

Smith retrieved the Polaroid from the dashboard and cleared his throat. “Let’s see what tricks you’re playing on me now.” He flicked the corner of the photograph as he sighed deeply in expected disappointment.

Universal Link


Follow the tour and comment; the more you comment, the better your chances of winning. The tour dates can be found HERE

One randomly chosen winner via rafflecopter will win a $50 Amazon/BN.com gift card.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 How I handled the research for the book.


With my rock-fiction novels and short stories, my research is a little different than other genres. Because rock fiction is adapting an album or single song into a novel or short story, first I search for any interviews with the band surrounding that particular release, to get a better idea of where their heads were when they wrote it. Then I study the lyrics, line by line, and try to figure out which ones are literal and which ones are supposed to be ambiguous. Then I begin my outlining, separating the literal lyrics and building the story arc from those and using the ambiguous ones more for ambience and tone. For an upcoming book, however, my wife and I are flying to London to do on-location research and interviews. This will be the first time I get on a plane and travel anywhere for the sole purpose of research for a novel.

Brian Paone was born and raised in the Salem, Massachusetts area. Brian has, thus far, published four novels: a memoir about being friends with a drug-addicted rock star, Dreams are Unfinished Thoughts; a macabre cerebral-horror novel, Welcome to Parkview; a time-travel romance novel, Yours Truly, 2095, (which was nominated for a Hugo Award, though it did not make the finalists); and a supernatural, crime-noir detective novel, Moonlight City Drive. Along with his four novels, Brian has published three short stories: “Outside of Heaven,” which is featured in the anthology, A Matter of Words; “The Whaler’s Dues,” which is featured in the anthology, A Journey of Words; and “Anesthetize (or A Dream Played in Reverse on Piano Keys),” which is featured in the anthology, A Haunting of Words. Brian is also a vocalist and has released seven albums with his four bands: Yellow #1, Drop Kick Jesus, The Grave Machine, and Transpose. He is married to a US Naval Officer, and they have four children. Brian is also a police officer and has been working in law enforcement since 2002. He is a self-proclaimed roller coaster junkie, a New England Patriots fanatic, and his favorite color is burnt orange. For more information on all his books and music, visit www.BrianPaone.com 

Tour organised by: Goddess Fish Promotions