Enchanting Readers One Author At A Time!

Tuesday, January 27, 2015

Cover Reveal Blitz: Winter's Wolf by Tara Lain



Winter's Wolf 
(Tales of the Harker Pack #3)
By Tara Lain


Blurb:
Winter Thane was raised on the two cardinal rules of werewolf existence: don’t reveal yourself to humans under penalty of death, and there’s no such thing as a gay werewolf. It’s no surprise when his father drags him from his wild life in remote Canada back to Connecticut to meet his old pack in hopes it will persuade Winter to abandon his love of sex with human males. Of course Dad’s hopes are dashed when they come face-to-face with the gay werewolves in the Harker pack.

Winter takes one look at FBI agent, Matt Partridge, and decides bird is his favorite food. Partridge is embroiled in an investigation into drug dealing and the death of a fellow agent. He can’t let himself get distracted by the young, platinum-haired beast, but then Winter proves invaluable in the search for clues, a move that winds them both up in chains and facing imminent death. Winter quickly learns his father’s motives are questionable, the pack alphas are a bunch of pussies, humans aren’t quite what they seem, and nothing in the forests of Connecticut is pure except love. 




Release Date: 
February 27, 2015


You can pre-order your copy at


Also available for pre-order in paperback from Dreamspinner Press




Excerpt


Matt’s heart stopped beating. Cliché, Partridge. Watch the clichés. Still, that’s what it  felt  like. Walking  straight toward  him,  like  he  was  being  pulled  on  a  rubber  string, strode that huge hunk of gorgeous he’d seen two nights before. The one related to Cole Harker’s husband. The man moved like an animal, gliding and rippling, and the big bulge in the front of his jeans advertised another kind of animal. Big Bird! Shit, the thing had to  be  at least  at  half-mast,  and it looked  huge. Matt  wanted to  fall  down  and  worship. 

Control. Deep breath. He’ll probably walk right by.

Sweet Jesus, he stopped right in front of the table.

“Hi.  I’m  Winter  Thane.  I  saw  you  here  the  other  night  with  my,  uh,  cousin  by marriage, Cole Harker.”

Matt swallowed. Try to be cool. “Yes, I remember he went to speak with you. I’m Matt Partridge.”

“Yes.”

Matt’s eyes widened. Had Winter asked about  him? “Would  you,  uh, care to join me?”

“Thanks.”

Trying  not to  stare at the  play  of muscle in those  hard thighs and the large  bulge between proved more than he was up to. When he glanced up from his inspection, Winter Thane gazed at him with a small smile. It said Caught ya. Matt cleared his throat. “Uh, I was just about to order a beer. Would you like another?”

“No,  I’m  good,  thanks.”  Winter  wrapped  his  beautifully  shaped  lips  around  the head  of the  bottle,  seemed to lovingly  caress it  for  a  second,  and then  sucked  down  a drink.

Holy crap.

Matt waved at the waitress, who hurried over, gazing at Winter most of the time. He ordered a beer, and she rushed off, actually bumping into a patron because she couldn’t stop staring over her shoulder. Who could blame her? Matt chuckled. “You must get that a lot.”

The  guy  shook  that  snowflake  hair.  “No.  Where  I’m  from  there  aren’t  a  lot  of females.”

“You must enjoy being here.” Matt swallowed.

Winter  shrugged.  “City  guy  like  you’d  be  used  to  it.  For  me  it’s  new  and  pretty weird.”

Matt laughed. “Who’d look at me?”

Winter’s blue eyes flashed up. “Who wouldn’t?”

Matt’s  mouth  opened  but  nothing  came  out.  Finally  he  got  his  brain  and  tongue connected. “So, uh, you’re visiting the area?”

Winter’s pale brows pulled together. “My father’s theory is we’re here to stay. I’d say the jury’s out.”

“Not a good experience so far?”

“An  old Chinese  curse  said,  ‘May  you live in interesting times.’  So  far the trip’s been interesting.” Those melted ice eyes raised slowly to Matt. “But it could get better.”

Every  resolve  Matt  had  ever  made  tried  to  dissolve  in  that  field  of  blue.  Come on, Partridge. You’re investigating these people. The  arrival  of the  waitress  felt like  a lifeline, and  he  grabbed the  bottle, threw way too much money  on the table, and  drank down half the contents in one pull.

“Thank you, sir.” She batted her eyes at Winter and left.

Winter pointed at the bottle. “Thirsty?”

“Uh, yes, I guess so.”

“So you’re the law?”

“How’d you know that?”

Winter grinned. “Aside from the haircut that speaks of gray suits and gray cars?”

Matt ducked his head and ran a hand over his carefully barbered light brown hair. 

“Bad, huh?”

“Nah. It’s cute. Besides, I asked Ben Freedman about you.”

Matt’s heart leaped and stomach sank—the war of suspicion and desire. “Why?”

Again, the long, slow gaze. “I think you’re gorgeous.”

Matt frowned. Suspicion won. “Come on. Don’t give me that shit.”

Winter cocked his head. “You don’t believe me?”

“Of course  not. Why would a  guy like  you think  I’m  gorgeous?” He  drawled the word and narrowed his eyes. “Did you hear somewhere that I’m gay? What the fuck are you playing at?”

Winter smiled slowly. “I hoped you liked men. Or maybe I should say, I hoped you liked me.”

“Who the fuck wouldn’t like you?” He pushed his bottle away. “I should go.”

Winter’s  hand  clamped  on  his  forearm.  Long,  slender  fingers  carved  with  sinew. 

“Please don’t. I’m not a very civilized creature, so maybe I don’t know how to say what I feel.”

Matt tried to catch his breath. “And what’s that?”

“That I want to take you out into the trees and fuck you until you scream.”

Every cell in his body  froze—except his cock, which expanded like someone was blowing it up through a hose. “Who told you I’m gay?”

“No one. I don’t know if you’re gay. I don’t know if I’m gay. I don’t give a damn. I just know I want to suck you and fuck you until daylight.”

Matt  stared  into  those  mesmerizing  eyes,  and  his  hands  shook.  He  couldn’t  look away. “People don’t say shit like that.”

“People don’t. I do.”



About the Author

Tara Lain writes the Beautiful Boys of Romance in LGBT erotic romance novels that star her unique, charismatic heroes. Her first novel was published in January of 2011 and she’s now somewhere around book 23. Her best­selling novels have garnered awards for Best Series, Best Contemporary Romance, Best Ménage, Best LGBT Romance, Best Gay Characters, and Tara has been named Best Writer of the Year in the LRC Awards. In her other job, Tara owns an advertising and public relations firm. She often does workshops on both author promotion and writing craft. She lives with her soul­mate husband and her soul­mate dog in Laguna Beach, California, a pretty seaside town where she sets a lot of her books. Passionate about diversity, justice, and new experiences, Tara says on her tombstone it will say “Yes”!


You can find Tara at

               






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Wednesday, January 14, 2015

Susan Kaye Quinn's "The Debt Collector: Season Two" Blog Tour



Blog Tour Stops

January 14, 2015
The Consummate Reader

January 14, 2015
Pure Textuality

January 15, 2015
Addicted 2 Heroines
Addicted To Romance

January 16, 2015
Coffee and characters
My Book Addiction and More

January 17, 2015
 Share My Destiny
Totally Addicted to Reading

January 18, 2015
Words, Words, Words
thehellviscompendium

January 19, 2015
Diane's Book Blog

January 20, 2015
trips down imagination road
Wicked Women Book Blog





The Debt Collector
Season 2
by Susan Kaye Quinn

Blurb:
What’s your life worth on the open market?

In this gritty urban fantasy, debt collectors take your life energy and give it to someone more “worthy”… all while paying the price with black marks on their souls.

“Wraith is amazing and just as compelling as Lirium—once again I'm hooked!!” 
“I loved being back in this world! Wraith has captivated me.” 

Wraith is a shadow in the night, haunting the bedrooms of the rich "high potentials" who have stolen life energy from the desperate and dying. The justice and the sweet mercy hit that follow keep her from falling into her own personal abyss. Her secret nighttime work also keeps her on level for her real mission: carrying on her father's legacy of attempting to bring an end to debt collection as a whole. But when a mysterious debt collector interrupts her in the act and discovers her secret, everything Wraith loves may be destroyed by the one thing she can never fix-- the original sin of being a debt collector herself.

Contains mature content and themes.

OPTIONED FOR VIRTUAL REALITY BY IMMERSIVE ENTERTAINMENT 
2014 Semi-Finalist in Science Fiction in the Kindle Book Awards

The nine episodes of Season Two of the Debt Collector serial are collectively 125k words or about 500 pages. 

It is recommended that you start with the first season, but each season is a complete story for that debt collector and can serve as an entry point to the series. There are five planned seasons in the Debt Collector series, the first four each from the perspective of a different debt collector with the fifth season bringing all four together. 


Available for purchase at



Excerpt

Excerpt Debt Collector Season Two, first episode – Wraith
“Adrien Odel,” I say with my best judge-and-jury voice. This part is important. I want him to know why I’m here. I’m not a debt collector for the mob or some rogue collector out for juice on the side. I’m not the government’s grim reaper, cashing out the destitute to feed a corrupt life energy supply system. I’m something he’s never heard of: a debt collector who will make him pay for his sins. A vengeful angel brought to his bedroom by his own foul actions. At least, that’s what I want him to think. The suit usually helps, along with the wild-flowing curly black hair.
“I… what…” He’s still breathless. But he’s smart, too, and quickly figures it out. His legs are trapped under the blanket, but his arms are free, so he lunges for me—the typical response. If he tried to twist away, making me lose contact with his bare skin, I might actually get into trouble. But my targets almost always go for my throat, especially the men. And most of them are men. I’m not biased—I’ll hunt down anyone who trafficks in life energy—but while the occasional socialite, movie star, or female corporate executive might make my list, it’s usually the men who think they can make deals with the mob and get away with it. And when they see a woman in a skin-tight suit perched on their chest in bed, they automatically assume they have the advantage.
I pull another hit from him.
Odel’s back arches again, but the pleasure is all mine.
I let it go longer this time, closing my eyes and drinking it in. I’m careful not to pull too fast—I’ve still got a few scars from those early trial-and-error lessons in how to collect, and I don’t need any more angry red marks across my palms. Plus I’m not ready to do the full collection yet. Odel still needs to learn his lesson. But I take a drink and let the energy seep out to every living cell in my body.
Damn, I’ve missed this.
Not sure why I thought I could resist in the first place. And my targets do deserve everything they get. Any “high potential” who steals the life energy of someone “less deserving” needs a taste of what that kind of dying feels like. But I’m fooling myself if I think it’s only about the justice. I’m an addict, through and through. Really no better than the government’s debt collectors who do it for a paycheck and their ten percent cut of the hit.
Might as well get used to that, too.
I breathe out a deep sigh and stop the pull. I’m almost dizzy with the high. Too much. Need to be more careful. By the time I lazily open my eyes, Odel’s body is slack against the bed, his arms lying where they fell once I started the transfer. His chest is heaving, and the gray pallor is starting to show in his face. It’s hard to tell with all the creepy red glow-light in his room, but he’s definitely looking more like death than when I came in.
“What do you want?” His words are wheezy.
I lick my lips, already dry from the take. “You took something that doesn’t belong to you,” I say. “I’m here to take it back.”
“I can… I can pay you,” he says, already reaching the desperate, bargaining stage. That was fast. “Anything you want.”
“I don’t want your money, Odel,” I say, chastising him lightly. The high is making me want to play with him, and that’s not a good sign. It’s been too long. I should have known it would be hard to come back. “I want your life.”
“Please.” God, he’s starting to tear up now. These pampered high potentials can be so soft once you get them out of the boardroom. “Please don’t kill me. I’ve… I’ve got a family.” He doesn’t try to escape my hold on his forehead this time, like he’s finally figured out my palm is a gun barrel pressed against his skin. But he flails his arm to the side, reaching for something.
I shove down against his forehead, and his head sinks into the pillow. His hands go up in surrender.
“Is there something you need?” I ask.
“I just… I have… a picture…” He’s trying to look with just his eyes for whatever he was reaching for. Sometimes I forget how smart these high potentials are. I should know, I’m one of them. And a smart animal trapped in a corner becomes even smarter as the panic brings out every instinct for survival they have, including using all their brain cells at once. And sometimes they figure out my one weakness really fast.
I lean back and look, even though I know better.
He blindly reaches for the slick black photo cube. It’s the kind you tap and a holographic projection pops up whatever you’ve programmed: slide shows, video snippets, the slice-of-life stuff everyone has. It reaches in and stabs me in several different ways: because he has a smiling mother and a cute younger brother and a shiny-coated dog who adores him; because all the people whose life-energy he stole lost all of that and more; and because I have a cube just like it at home. Only the people on it are dead, and my empty apartment will only ever house me, my debt collector suit, and a haunting memory of a life that could have been but wasn’t. Because I do this instead.
I hold my free hand out to him. “Give it to me.”
He hands it over, a slight tremble in his fingers.
My palm is still plastered to his forehead, but I ease up on the pressure a little. It’s starting to sweat, making the contact slick. I need to move this along.
I hold up the cube. It’s still playing, so I freeze it. “Alicia Kentworth had a family, too. Only hers wasn’t rich. Trina Smith had two daughters she left behind. Matt Worthy was only twenty-five when they came for him, but he already had a beautiful baby girl. One who will never know her daddy.”
“I… I swear, I don’t know those people.” The desperation in his voice is inching up to hope, like he thinks he can talk his way out of this.
“No, of course you don’t.” I toss the cube aside, and it tumbles across the carpet. “You don’t think to ask about them when you’re getting your precious life energy hits, do you? You never say, Hey, Mr. Mob Boss, who had to die so I can be a little more peppy for that upcoming board meeting? Because then you’d have to think about it. And that might make it a little harder to sleep in this incredibly peacocky bed you have here.”
Odel has gone very still with my words, and I can see it on his face: he’s gotten to the stage where he realizes he’s not getting out of this. That anything he says will probably only make it worse. What he doesn’t know is that’s what I was waiting for: the look that says he understands what’s happening. And he knows he’s going to pay.


About the Author

Susan Kaye Quinn is the author of the bestselling Mindjack Trilogy and the Debt Collector serial, as well as other speculative fiction novels and short stories. Her work has appeared in the Synchronic anthology and has been optioned for Virtual Reality by Immersive Entertainment. Her business card says "Author and Rocket Scientist" but she mostly sits around in her PJs in awe that she gets to write full time.





You can find her at 

         


Giveaway








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Thursday, January 1, 2015

Dannika Dark's "Four Days (Seven Series, Bk 4)" Blog Tour



Tour Stops

January 1, 2015

January 2, 2015

January 3, 2015

January 4, 2015

January 5, 2015

January 6, 2015

January 7, 2015

January 8, 2015

January 9, 2015

January 10, 2015

January 11, 2015

January 12, 2015

January 13, 2015

January 14, 2015




Four Days
(Seven Series, Book #4)
By Dannika Dark



Blurb:
Ivy believes every life must have balance, and during the past year, she’s found harmony living with the Weston pack. When an evil spirit from her past threatens her wolf, it sets off a chain reaction of events that alters the course of her destiny.

Lorenzo Church is a powerful, wealthy Packmaster who rules his pack through intimidation and order. He has vowed to never love a woman because love can destroy an empire. But chaos is fast approaching in the form of a Shifter named Ivy—a Native American, like him, who has invaded his dreams since the moment they met. She is spirited, wise, and unattainable.

In an unexpected turn of events, Ivy must choose whether or not to let go of the one person she has always loved. Lorenzo discovers the root of her courage but will never win her as his mate unless he learns to listen to his heart.



Available for purchase at 

            


      




Excerpt

It was the longest and shortest day and night of my life—one that was pressed in my memory like a rose in a book. He said he’d never allowed a woman to stay the whole night, and he definitely didn’t hold a woman as she slept. I also got the feeling he’d never shown this side of himself to anyone—drawing more than just pleasure from intimacy, but emotional comfort as well.

“Will you cuddle me while I sleep?” I asked when he stood naked before me, drinking a bottle of water.

“I’m one of the most respected Packmasters in the territory. I’ve killed men for disloyalty, and those who follow me do so out of fear. I don’t cuddle,” was all he said.

So my Thunder Wolf crossed his arms and lay on his back, watching me in the mirror above the bed as I rolled on my side and went to sleep. When my breathing became heavy and he thought I’d drifted off, he scooted close behind me and nuzzled his face against the nape of my neck. I took more pleasure in those secret gestures than when he kissed me while awake. I’d always known that the way a man treats a woman when no one is watching showed his true colors, but I’d never given it thought beyond that. There is something pure and honest in the way a man treats a woman when he thinks she isn’t aware. It shows the kind of man he truly is.

Now I knew with absolute certainty that despite his stony presence and arrogant superiority, he possessed a compassionate heart. Lorenzo Church was a man with two sides to his life, like a coin.


One I wished I could keep in my pocket.



The Seven Series




About the Author


This is the segment where you learn a little more about who I am, so here's what I can tell you:  I drink copious amounts of vitamin water placed precariously close to my laptop while writing. These are two healthy habits I have no intention of breaking. I'm a transplant living in the south, but I was born in the 70's to a military dad who moved us around the world.

When I'm not writing (which is all the time), I'm hunting down Indie music, watching movies, reading, eating Tex-Mex, discovering new ways to humiliate myself bowling, and burning up my laptop battery on the Internet. I have a relaxed, easy-going personality and don't like drama. I live with a cat who thinks she is a dog, or a goat (she eats plastic, so I'm not sure which).

Throughout my life, I've had insomnia. Counting sheep never worked and eventually I would imagine those sheep were the sole source of food after an apocalyptic battle where only thousands survived. I made up stories in a futile attempt to bore myself to sleep. The problem was, I got so wrapped up in my "head stories" that I would continue them through the following nights, changing it up each time to make it more exciting. Eventually, I started writing my ideas down - creating short stories, and then I discovered my love for poetry.

It's almost embarrassing how many spiral notebooks and stacks of paper I have of poetry and lyrics.

Another passion: digital art. I design all my book covers, marketing, and series art. I'm a very visual person and pursued photography as an avid hobby for many years.

I am not a YA author (I feel like I have to state this only because I've had a few people ask), but I think it's wonderful there are so many books available to teens in Urban Fantasy and Paranormal.

I am finally doing what I have always wanted to do: giving my characters a pulse through writing full time. I focus on adult urban fantasy romance, but I don't like labels and I enjoy blending genres to break out of the confines of predictability.

But it's what I love to do.

Danni

You can stalk, I mean find Dannika here: 

             



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Monday, December 22, 2014

Release Day Blitz: The Unseelie King by Heather Killough-Walden




The Unseelie King
(The Kings Series, Book #6)
By Heather Killough-Walden


Blurb:
For thousands of years, two realms of unspeakable magic and mystery have existed in peace side by side. One is a land of light, of kindness, of dreams, and of color. The other is rendered in the gray lines of wickedness and seeped in the unbearable beauty of all that is forbidden. The first is ruled by the Seelie King. The other is ruled by Caliban… The Unholy.

Minerva Trystaine has always been the quiet twin, bullied by reality’s fierceness into a life of solitary sensitivity. What she witnesses, she feels. Living in a world that breeds one misfortune after another, she has had no choice but to sequester herself from outgoing life and any hope it might have otherwise offered her. She hides in her music, her hopes and dreams silent but for the harmony she gives them upon rare occasion, allowing them to be heard in perfect pitch by the rest of the world.

But when Minerva’s sister, Selene, is forced into a fantastical  realm of supernatural magic and mystery and taken as queen of the seelie kingdom, the twins are reunited with a world they can scarcely remember – but could never forget. They are Wishers. Born of furious magic and fueled by the need for justice, Wishers are the most feared magic users in the fae realms. For this reason, they were all but annihilated thousands of years ago. Minerva and her sister are the last of a slaughtered breed.

Just as Selene accepts her place on the seelie throne, Minerva struggles to come to grips with her changed world. But as she faces off with her lost-and-found identity, and with the unbelievable power swimming through her veins, she realizes she must also contend with the fact that Wishers are no more safe in this day and age than they were millennia ago. Someone wants her dead.

And the one man she should probably fear most, the one fae lord more dangerous than any other, the notorious and cruel Leanan King – just happens to be the only man in all the realms who can protect her.
The Unseelie King is the sixth book in Heather Killough-Walden’s acclaimed paranormal romance series, The Kings. Within its pages, a dark lord finds long lost hope in a beautiful, powerful soul, a lost spirit finds faith in tempting and forbidden magic, and a fierce and willful love finds the unbelievable strength to do what must be done to survive against overwhelming odds.



Available for purchase at 

            










About The Author




Heather Killough-Walden is a California native currently living in Texas with her husband and child. She is the New York Times bestselling author of the Big Bad Wolf series, The Kings series, The Chosen Soul series, The Lost Angels series, the Neverland series, and the October Trilogy. Heather’s educational background includes religious studies, archeology, and law. She has traveled and lived all over the world but hopes to one day live in a town with a world-class hockey team. (Let’s Go Pens!) Visit Heather’s website at www.killough-walden.com, where you can sign up for her newsletter.






You can find Heather at 

         







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