Saturday, February 28, 2015

Cover Reveal: The Griffin's Secret by Cate Masters

The Griffin’s Secret
by Cate Masters


In this contemporary re-telling of Grimm’s classic fairy tale The Griffin, two people must risk everything to free themselves from the invisible prisons that keep them from love…

Jackson Grant had it all—the girl he loved, his Harley, and his guitar. Until a tragic accident stole it all away. Now, more than scars and a tattoo remain. Jackson has a secret. Cursed by his dead girlfriend’s mother, he can never fall in love again or his beloved will die. With his heart on lockdown, he keeps to himself—until a roadie gig with Malcontent, the world’s most popular band, entwines his fate with sweet, wounded Layla’s…

Music is what Layla lives for. She has no choice. She’s bound by magic to serve Malcontent, cursed to propel them to stardom with her musical powers. Then Jackson appears and gives her hope that he’s the hero who will save her. A reluctant hero, yet one she can’t resist. But freedom will come at price—and who will pay…?


Excerpt
The faint scent of an exotic flower on an ocean breeze hit him the second the girl walked in. Every part of his body stood at attention, taking in the way she moved. The curve of her slender hips. Those long legs…they’d wrap around the back seat of his Harley perfectly. Wrap around him perfectly, too.

A flip of her onyx-silk hair sent it behind her shoulder as she sat opposite. “Who are you?”

Good question. He’d been seeking the same answer for too long. “Jackson Grant.”

Her eyes darkened, deep brown to charcoal diamonds. “Why are you here?”

“For the roadie job.” Was she the first gatekeeper? A gate she kept locked, he’d bet. Or maybe she was another test. Kev had warned him there’d be tricky questions and to answer straight. Something told him she asked out of curiosity.

“You think you’re up for such a demanding job?”

Again, the impression hit him she was making these questions up as she went along, ad-libbing off his replies.

He’d play. “I’m strong. Dependable. I follow orders, keep my head down, and stay out of trouble.” And he liked his privacy.

Her features smoothed, hard as porcelain. “Do you.” Not a question.

He’d answer anyway. “Yes.”

Did disappointment curl her lip? Or boredom? Why did he care? If he could, he’d blast out of there before his own curiosity got the better of him. Already, she’d gotten under his skin. Crazy how the tat no longer singed him, but now twisted like a trapped animal.

With a plastic smile, she batted her eyes, and the false flirtation didn’t suit her. “So. You’re a yes-man.”

The way she said it, he’d be no different than any other roadie serving the great rock star, Malcolm Fetterman. Fine by Jackson. The less he stood out, the better. Except for her. He hated to think of her glossing over his presence, but that would be better, too.

He drummed his fingers on the table. “I need the job.” Where the hell was Malcolm anyway? The longer he stayed with her, the more he wanted to. Definitely couldn’t afford that kind of trouble. He glanced at the open door, hoping he wouldn’t have to go through the same interrogation again.

She tapped the table. “You’d have to travel constantly.”

“Perfect.” No different than his usual way of life. Except this time, his paycheck would remain steady.

“You wouldn’t miss your family?” She dipped her head. “Your girlfriend?”

He curled his lip this time. No one’s business but his. He shifted in his seat. “They’re better off.”

Her brows knit, and then her expression became unreadable as the Sphinx. “The hours are long, and the equipment’s heavy. Everything has to be exactly as Mal orders.”

Did he imagine it, or had she winced at her own words?

He shrugged. “It’s his show.” Someday, Jackson would have his own roadies. And would treat them much better than Malcolm Fetterman did, if the stories proved true.

Her steely focus cut into him. “Mal doesn’t hire musicians except for those in the band. And there aren’t any openings in Malcontent.”

He didn’t allow himself to blink. “No problem.”

“But you play, don’t you?” Her gaze dropped to his callused fingertips drumming the tabletop.

He drew his hand down. “No.” A necessary lie. She might suspect, but couldn’t possibly know the truth. Almost like leaving one of his limbs behind, he’d locked his Fender in storage in New Jersey with his paltry possessions for six months. By then, he’d know whether this gig worked out.


The Griffin’s Secret
Reimagined fairy tale/fantasy romance novella
ISBN: 9781616507053
Publish Date: 5/12/2015
About 33,000 words


About the Author
Cate Masters has made beautiful central Pennsylvania her home, but she’ll always be a Jersey girl at heart. When not spending time with her dear hubby, she can be found in her lair, concocting a magical brew of contemporary, historical, and fantasy/paranormal stories with her cat Chairman Maiow and dog Lily as company. Look for her at http://catemasters.blogspot.com and in strange nooks and far-flung corners of the web.

Contact Details
Twitter:  @CateMasters






Wednesday, February 25, 2015

Cover Reveal: Erin Fanning's Blood Stitches

Blood Stitches

By Erin Fanning

Coming May 12, 2015 from Lyrical Press

Love and danger intertwine…

Blurb:

It’s called El Toque de la Luna—The Touch of the Moon. At least that’s how nineteen-year-old Gabby’s older sister, Esperanza, refers to the magical powers she inherited from their Mayan ancestors. Esperanza says women with El Toque weave magic into their knitting, creating tapestries capable of saving—or devastating—the world. Gabby thinks Esperanza is more like touched in the head—until a man dressed like a candy corn arrives at their Seattle home on Halloween. But “Mr. C” is far from sweet…

Soon, Gabby and her almost-more-than-friend, Frank, find themselves spirited away to a demon ball, complete with shape shifters—and on a mission to destroy Esperanza’s tapestries before they cause an apocalyptic disaster… And before it’s too late to confess their true feelings for each other.

Excerpt:

A gust of wind scattered leaves across the University of Seattle campus. My hair tangled over my face. New contacts tortured my eyes, and books weighed down my backpack. It didn’t matter. A tornado could have snatched me up. As long as it carried me home and put an end to the anniversary of the worst day of my life.

“Watch out, Gabby.” My best friend Frank thrust his hands deep into the pockets of his pinstriped suit. “We’re being followed by a giant candy corn.”

“Giant candy corn? Yeah, right.” If I turned around, Frank would laugh and say, “Gotcha”, or some other dorky thing. The mind-numbing boredom of Calculus I, our last class of the day, always set Frank off, making him zanier than usual.

“I mean it. We’ve got a candy corn on our tail.” Frank whistled a Lester Ruben song as he sauntered ahead.

“Okay, okay. Let me see this Halloween wonder.” If I didn’t give in, Frank would never leave me alone. I whirled, ready to hear Frank’s laugh, and almost ran into a man. His face glowed orange, like someone who’d spent too much time in a tanning booth, and he wore a white cap pulled down to his ears. A yellow scarf hid his neck and chin. For once, Frank wasn’t kidding. The man resembled a giant candy corn.

Shredded paper and a postage stamp poked out of his scarf, and a moon decorated an edge of the knitting, like one of my older sister Esperanza’s creations. It didn’t seem possible, but no one else I knew added garbage and a signature moon to their knitting. A wool coat covered the rest of him, except his face and steel-tipped boots.

“Sorry.” I jumped back.

Frank’s chuckles mixed with squirrels chattering in a nearby tree. Drizzle moistened my forehead, and a cold dampness seeped into my bones. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, like watching Esperanza unravel her knitting one stitch at a time to fix a mistake.

About the author:

Erin Fanning spends her summers on a northern Michigan lake, where her imagination explores the water and dense forest for undiscovered creatures. In the winter, she migrates to central Idaho, exchanging mountain bikes and kayaks for skis and snowshoes. She’s the author of Mountain Biking Michigan, as well as numerous articles, essays, and short stories. 

Links






Tuesday, February 17, 2015

Cover Reveal: Deception by A.S. Fenichel

Deception
Book Two
The Demon Hunters

Genre: Paranormal Historical Romance
Publisher: Lyrical Press/Kensington Publishing
Date of Publication: July 7, 2015
Available for Pre-order:


Blurb:

When Demons threaten Regency London, only a Lady can stop them.

Lillian Dellacourt is beautiful, refined and absolutely lethal. She’s also the most feared and merciless demon hunter in The Company. She’s come a long way from the penniless seamstress’s daughter sold to the highest bidder, and it wasn’t by trusting a man, let alone an exiled Marquis with more on his mind than slaying the hellspawn . . .

For Dorian Lambert, Marquis de Montalembert, being sent to keep track of Lillian is no mean task. He’s wanted the fiery vixen since he first heard of her five years ago. But wooing the lady while fighting the demon uprising is no easy feat, especially when the lady’s tongue is as sharp as the Japanese sai blades she favors for eviscerating the spawn of hell.

These two will have to learn to trust each other fast, because the demon master is back, and he’s planning to turn Edinburgh into a living hell…

Code for Rafflecopter giveaway:

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/bb0ebfb10/" rel="nofollow" data-raflid="bb0ebfb10" data-theme="classic" data-template="" id="rcwidget_fxvb3y95">a Rafflecopter giveaway

About the Author:

A.S. Fenichel gave up a successful career in New York City to follow her husband to Texas and pursue her lifelong dream of being a professional writer. She’s never looked back.

A.S. adores writing stories filled with love, passion, desire, magic and maybe a little mayhem tossed in for good measure. Books have always been her perfect escape and she still relishes diving into one and staying up all night to finish a good story.

Multi-published in erotic paranormal, contemporary and historical romance, A.S. is the author of the Mayan Destiny series, Christmas Bliss and many more. With several books currently contracted to multiple publishers, A.S. will be bringing you her brand of romance for many years to come.

Originally from New York, she grew up in New Jersey, and now lives in the East Texas with her real life hero, her wonderful husband. When not reading or writing she enjoys cooking, travel, history, and puttering in her garden.



Find A.S. Fenichel










Friday, November 28, 2014

3-Day Christmas Giveaway

Hi everyone! I'm participating in this 3-day Christmas giveaway. If you'd like to win some hot books to keep you warm this winter, check it out. :-)


ENTER TO WIN…
The 1st list of erotic romance and secret giveaways on November 24th!
The 2nd  list of erotic romance and secret giveaways on December 1st!
The 3rd  list of erotic romance and secret giveaways on December 8th!
Winners announced on December 22, 23 and 24th!



Tuesday, November 11, 2014

A Publishing Milestone

This month, I finally achieved something I'd been wanting to do for the past two years. I self-published my first collection of short dark suspense stories on Amazon, both for Kindle and the upcoming print edition. Malice and Mayhem: Tales of the Macabre are eleven stories, five previously published, that deal with how strong emotions like jealousy, obsession, and vengeance can often have detrimental, even deadly consequences.

I noticed that many of my characters, both in my short stories and in my longer works, are often seeking vengeance or are obsessed with wanting something, no matter how dangerous it might be. In "Obsession," Corinne cannot get over the fact her dead ex-boyfriend had a girlfriend before her, and she's determined to use necromancy to find out who he loved more. In "Family Tradition," a cursed kris (wavy dagger) forces a young man to commit murder, and he finds getting rid of the weapon is a lot harder than he expected.

These stories are influenced by the dark suspense shows of my past, namely Thriller, Night Gallery, and Alfred Hitchcock Presents. The idea is not to slather the stories in gore for the sake of scaring readers, but to leave them feeling uneasy. (Although there are some graphic descriptions, the overall rating for the book would probably be 14 and up.)

You can find out more about Malice and Mayhem and read the entire first short story, "It's in Your Blood" by clicking here.

Sometimes, there's truth to the warning, "Be careful what you wish for..."


Monday, October 27, 2014

Kicking It "Olde School": Guest Post by Selah Janel

Olde School by Selah Janel
Book One of the Kingdom City Chronicles


The empty word document dared me, goaded me, sneered at me. Especially that little blinking cursor. You’d think that a ‘write whatever you want for a guest post’ invitation would be easy, but that little cursor was berating me with every flicker, I just knew it. 

“I cannot fathom why this is still a problem for you,” a dry, slightly accented voice observed. Fabulous. Just what I needed.

“I’m still not talking to you.”

The small, blue-green songbird with the adorable feathered topknot lighted on the couch arm beside me. “I apologized for imposing on your convention—”

“You did not!”

He shrugged his wings. “I meant to, more or less.”

“You used my toiletries…my toothbrush…my loofah!” I growled, unable to look at him. There were just some things an author had no business sharing with her muse and I drew the line at my deodorant. 

Clyde, better known as one of the characters from my book, had somehow cheated fictional boundaries, made it into the real world, and declared himself my muse…as well as my roommate and PR manager for Imaginarium. I was still recovering from the experience.

“I needed to be presentable,” he retorted.

“Uh-huh. And what about how you screwed with my GPS on the way home? No one needs to drive by that many liquor stores and ice cream shops—”

“You would not let me drive!” he complained.

Now there was an adventure that I didn’t even want to contemplate. “Besides, for all your supposed help, you spent a lot of time in the hotel room watching television. For being one of those magical talking animal guardians, you aren’t helpful at all.”

He gave me a pitying look. “Milady bard, you should know by now that I am not that kind of talking animal guardian.” Clyde whistled innocently, his grey-green eyes showing complete innocence and lack of remorse. He was good, I’ll give him that. 

“Fine, make it up to me by helping me figure out what to write about. And it cannot be about you – you are not the only thing in this book,” I snapped. 

The pseudo-bird paced across the couch arm with his little legs, then plopped himself down on my shoulder, wiggling his toes in my peripheral vision. “You have talked at length about different topics…mayhaps ‘tis time for a different approach.”

I glanced over at him, grimacing at the odor of red wine coming off his beak tried to not get his toenails stuck up my nose. “Meaning?”

“Allow me to interview you.”

I blinked at him. He blinked back. “That…actually isn’t a bad idea,” I admitted. He gave me his “Of course it’s not you foolish mortal” look and cleared his throat. Yeah, no matter how many times I heard that or how deep and gravelly his voice was, that was still obnoxious.

He retreated into thought, head tilted and his little purple tongue working its way out. “Well then. It occurs to me that you have a decent knowledge of folk and fairy tales, to the point where you brought together aspects from many obscure stories into something melded with what you humans think of as more modern fantasy. You even delve into bits of the horrific stylings of him who you dub the ‘Crafter of Love’—“

“For God’s sake, Clyde! Lovecraft. H.P. Lovecraft. That is NOT the same thing as Crafter of Love.”

“Are you sure?”

My head was starting to throb, something that seemed to happen during every Clyde visit. “Uh, very much so. And yeah, I blended his type of otherworldly mythos with some Faerie basics….” I frowned, trying to find the question in his soliloquy. “What were you asking again?”

He fluttered his tail feathers and gave me a condescending look down his beak. “Well, you write cross-genre fiction for this book, do you not?”

I frowned. There was something definitely off about his interview style. “Uh…yes?”

“Splendid! See, this is not as difficult as you would think,” Clyde preened. “Now then, you made the decision to make much of your cast nonhuman, yet you go out of your way to not have their characterizations be gimmicky, and make sure to paint them in such a way that your audience empathizes with them. They have similar hopes and frustrations as many of your readers, and that way your audience will plunge even deeper into this world that you have created, is that not correct?”

I could feel my eyebrows creeping higher on my forehead as the ache pulsed behind my eyes. Although his magic powers had been restrained, he was almost easier to deal with when they accidentally leaked out. “That’s right…”

The little bird hopped up and down, tittering in excitement. “Good girl,” he cooed, and the only reason I didn’t smack him with a pillow was because I’d learned from experience that he had exceptional reflexes. And wings. He cuddled up against my neck, tapping his toes in thought. “Now then, you distinguish yourself from much of your mortal realm’s fantasy writings by allowing the expanse of Kingdom City to modernize. Your creatures have modern conveniences, though they are put through a…what do you call it…a fairy tale filter?”

“Yep,” I drawled from behind the paperback I’d picked up. 

He went on, throwing his wings about like an orator. “And you make great use of popular culture so that your readers will identify with the realm of Kingdom City—”

“Uh-huh.”

“And also take pains to make your folklore elements part of Kingdom City’s history, and have your characters consider magic to be tales of old wives…”

“Clyde.”

He ignored me, shivering in excitement as he continued, obviously on a roll. “You even merge aspects of Crones into modern hospitals—”

“Oh, Clyde?”

“And concepts of conventions and movie franchises and—”

“Hey, C-dog!” I had to admit, it was amusing when his feathers puffed up when he got irritated.

“You will not address me in that tone, mortal.”

“My apologies, Oh Olde One who in his infinite wisdom yet finite magic seeks to come to my aid,” I shot back. “What are you trying to do?”

“I do not fathom what you are asking.”

I rolled my eyes. “You get that this isn’t how you do an interview, right?”

Clyde was busy smoothing a ruffled feather on his chest. “Come again?”

“You’re answering all the questions for me as you ask them!”

A guilty flush lit his cheeks and he shrugged. “I suppose I get carried away from time to time, though think of it as reputation control,” he suggested. “You do tend to run your mouth about weird things, and you tend not to mention me as much as you could.”

Yep, that headache was getting stronger. I fought the curse and settled for a sigh. “Anything else you feel like asking, Clyde?”

He stared up at me with those fathomless eyes and tilted his head. His topknot slid with the movement and for a moment I could forget about his blasted ego.

“When are you going to discuss your infatuation with me?”

And the moment was gone.

“Excuse me?” I tried not to let my temper flare, but blast it, the stupid bird got under my skin.

“Well you did proclaim your allegiance to me on that thirteenth of Friday...”

“Because you zapped me to Kingdom City with your weird magic and got me locked into a dungeon!” I hissed, looming over him.

The little jerk was completely unperturbed. “I did hear you were looking everywhere for me all throughout that misadventure…”

“Because I wanted to go back home!”

“And you did let me stay in your hotel room at the convention of Imaginarium. I had minions that took fifty years to get to that point.” How something so cute and harmless could be so freakin’ vile, I had no idea.

“Listen, you! I don’t know what twisted thoughts are in that little feathery head of yours, but…”I trailed off when I finally noticed the shaking of Clyde’s little shoulders. “You idjit…” I growled.

“I am sorry, milady, but ‘tis a bit hilarious that you would take that seriously,” he laughed, rolling onto his back, claws kicking in the air. “After all, as an Olde One I could devour far more delectable souls, have far finer minions than you—”

As I figured, he dodged my hand pretty well. “I only mean that you are suitable for my bard!” he quickly corrected, wiping tears from his eyes with the tip of a wing.  “After all, I thought you preferred a professional relationship?”

“Of course I do!” I snapped, and the fact that I was having this conversation with a fictional character of mine didn’t escape me. Maybe I needed a vacation. 

“Think of it this way, milady,” Clyde chuckled, bowing low. “At least it got you writing.” With a throaty laugh he took to the air and disappeared in a flash of light and sound. Eh, that was true, he had jump-started my thought processes…though he was still a great big jerk.


Available at:

Genres:
Cross-Genre: Fantasy, Fairy/Folktale, Paranormal, Urban Fantasy, Horror

Blurb:
Kingdom City has moved into the modern era. Run by a lord mayor and city council (though still under the influence of the High King of The Land), it proudly embraces a blend of progress and tradition. Trolls, ogres, and other Folk walk the streets with humans, but are more likely to be entrepreneurs than cause trouble. Princesses still want to be rescued, but they now frequent online dating services to encourage lords, royals, and politicians to win their favor. The old stories are around, but everyone knows they’re just fodder for the next movie franchise. Everyone knows there’s no such thing as magic. It’s all old superstition and harmless tradition.

Bookish, timid, and more likely to carry a laptop than a weapon, Paddlelump Stonemonger is quickly coming to wish he’d never put a toll bridge over Crescent Ravine. While his success has brought him lots of gold, it’s also brought him unwanted attention from the Lord Mayor. Adding to his frustration, Padd’s oldest friends give him a hard time when his new maid seems inept at best and conniving at worst. When a shepherd warns Paddlelump of strange noises coming from Thadd Forest, he doesn’t think much of it. Unfortunately for him, the history of his land goes back further than anyone can imagine. Before long he’ll realize that he should have paid attention to the old tales and carried a club.

Darkness threatens to overwhelm not only Paddlelump, but the entire realm. With a little luck, a strange bird, a feisty waitress, and some sturdy friends, maybe, just maybe, Padd will survive to eat another meal at Trip Trap’s diner. It’s enough to make the troll want to crawl under his bridge, if he can manage to keep it out of the clutches of greedy politicians

Bio:
Selah Janel has been blessed with a giant imagination since she was little and convinced that fairies lived in the nearby state park or vampires hid in the abandoned barns outside of town. The many people around her that supported her love of reading and curiosity probably made it worse. Her e-books The Other Man, Holly and Ivy, and Mooner are published through Mocha Memoirs Press. Lost in the Shadows, a collection of short stories celebrating the edges of ideas and the spaces between genres was co-written with S.H. Roddey. Her work has also been included in The MacGuffinThe Realm BeyondStories for Children MagazineThe Big Bad: an Anthology of EvilThe Grotesquerie, and Thunder on the BattlefieldOlde School is the first book in her new series, The Kingdom City Chronicles, and is published through Seventh Star Press. She likes her music to rock, her vampires lethal, her fairies to play mind games, and her princesses to hold their own.

Selah’s Links:
Facebook author page – http://www.facebook.com/authorSJ











Wednesday, October 1, 2014

Jen Colly Cover Reveal Guest Post

Title: In the Dark
Series: The Cities Below, Book 1
By Jen Colly
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Lyrical Press/Kensington Publishing Corp.

Blurb:
Soren and Faith must find a way to survive the evil and darkness.

Faith’s spur of the moment vacation, meant to free her and boost her spirits, has left her lost on the streets of Paris. And apparently, Paris is populated with something more than just humans. Vampires, suave, seductive and oh so sexy, and one such warrior vampire has set his sights on her.

When Soren hears Faith’s terrified screams, he rushes in and saves her life without considering the consequences. Two problems: one, she’s a human and clearly aware of his vampire qualities, and two, the men who attacked her were not men at all, but demons. Their target, his beloved underground city of Balinese. He can never let Faith go home again, but can she learn to love his people...love him?

Excerpt:
            Faith looked up at the silhouette of a man curled over her, his head barely blocking the raindrops pelting her face. She was moving, her feet were not, and the city was sideways. The foreign world passed by her, the images coming slowly, as if she were seeing everything through someone else’s eyes.
            She was numb, her muscles from cold, her mind from shock. Her memories seemed intact, scrambled and hazy, but intact. She remembered being afraid of flying on the airplane, and the taste of the ginger gum that kept her nausea at bay. She’d been lost in the rain on the way back to her hotel. Then two men had trapped her in an alley.
            Her shoulders and ribs shuddered with chills powerful enough to make her teeth rattle.
She fought through it, lifted her head and looked down at her hands.
            “My purse.” The words didn’t come out right. Her jaw refused to open, and her lips had difficulty forming the simple words. She tried again. “Took my purse.”
            “I have it. You need to be warm and dry right now,” the man said, keeping up his pace, never once looking at her. By the sheer confidence in his husky tones, without a doubt, this was the man who had saved her. That intense look on his face was nearly the same as when he’d pulled the muggers off her, driven them into the wall. It was oddly comforting, at the moment.
            Tall buildings, probably homes, surrounded her, swaying in her field of vision as he strode along. Light peeked through several arched windows, yellow and warm.
            He entered one of the larger buildings as if he owned it and carried her past several numbered doors to the end of the hallway, where he started down a creaking set of stairs. Suddenly she feared falling down those stairs, but her shuddering muscles wouldn’t allow her to hold on tighter. She closed her eyes and trusted him not to drop her.
            After the last step had been left behind, she took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and almost wished she hadn’t. The basement hallway was musty, and each bare light bulb they passed only revealed cracks chasing each other across the ceiling.
            He stopped, pressed her against a green door as he fished for the doorknob with the hand supporting her legs.
            “Put me down,” she said, trying to help, and fully expecting him to drop her to her feet.
            He fought with the knob until it finally gave and carried her inside, then kicked the door shut behind him.

Author Bio:
Jen Colly is the rare case of an author who rebelled against reading assignments throughout her school years. Now she prefers reading books in a series, which has led her to writing her first paranormal romance series The Cities Below. She will write about anything that catches her fancy, though truth be told, her weaknesses are pirates and vampires. She lives in Ohio with her supportive husband, two kids, one big fluffy dog, and four rescued cats.

Author Links