Enchanting Readers One Author At A Time!

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Z.A. Maxfield's "Grime Doesn't Pay (The Brothers Grime #2)" Blog Tour



Tour Stops: 

Nov. 26, 2013
Nov. 27, 2013
Nov. 28, 2013
Nov. 29, 2013
Nov. 30, 2013
BookwormBridgette's World 

Dec. 1,  2013
Dec. 2, 2013



Grime Doesn't Pay
(The Brothers Grime, Bk #2)
By Z.A. Maxfield


Blurb: 

Eddie Vasquez is hot for his niece Lucy’s third grade teacher, B. Andrew (call me Andrew) Daley. Eddie can’t wait to take Andrew dancing to show him his moves. The only problem is, Andrew keeps talking about books Eddie hasn’t read, that he can’t read — at least not in the usual way — because Eddie’s dyslexic.

When the two men find Eddie’s favorite teacher, Mrs. Henderson, wandering the school grounds confused and smelling of human decomposition, they come together to help her. Eddie’s fiercely loyal, and this is the teacher who uncovered Eddie’s learning disability and helped him regain his self-esteem. He’ll do anything, even take on a massive cleaning job pro bono to pay Mrs. Henderson back for the support she’s given him.

Andrew and Eddie come from different worlds, Eddie can’t read, Andrew can’t dance. Andrew’s father is a horrible snob and if all Eddie’s secrets are laid bare, he’ll have plenty to feel superior about. But Eddie and Andrew have taken on a massive project together, and their growing attraction can’t be denied. They learn the trick to forming a lasting partnership in dance and in life might be finding a partner whose weaknesses you can live with and whose strengths make you look good, in Grime Doesn’t Pay.






Available for purchase at 

   


About the Author


Z. A. Maxfield started writing in 2007 on a dare from her children and never looked back.  Pathologically disorganized, and perennially optimistic, she writes as much as she can, reads as much as she dares, and enjoys her time with family and friends. Three things reverberate throughout all her stories: Unconditional love, redemption, and the belief that miracles happen when we least expect them.

If anyone asks her how a wife and mother of four can find time for a writing career, she’ll answer, “It’s amazing what you can accomplish if you give up housework.”





You can find ZA Maxfield at 

            


Giveaway

Monday, November 18, 2013

Cynthia Eden's "A Vampire's Christmas Carol (Novella)" Blog Tour



Tour Stops

Monday, Nov. 18  

Tuesday, Nov. 19  

Wednesday, Nov. 20  
Reader Girls

Thursday, Nov. 21  

Friday, Nov. 22 

Saturday, Nov. 23  
Penny For Them...

Sunday , Nov. 24  

Monday, Nov. 25  
Tuesday, Nov. 26 

Wednesday, Nov. 27 

Thursday, Nov. 28  
Fang-tastic Books

Friday, Nov. 29  

Saturday, Nov. 30 

Sunday , Dec. 1  

Monday, Dec. 2  
A Generous Helping of Romance



A Vampire's Christmas Carol (Novella)
by
Cynthia Eden

Blurb: 


This holiday season has bite.

Ben Prescott hates Christmas—he’s a vampire, and to him, there’s certainly nothing jolly about the holiday season. While the humans are running around being merry, he’s hunting in the shadows. Ben plans to spend the holidays his way…by stalking deadly prey.

But fate has other plans for Ben.

Three visitors are coming Ben’s way…A demon who will force Ben to face his past, a ghost who will show Ben the present he could have, and a shifter who will reveal the darkness that waits in Ben’s future. Unless Ben can change his ways, he may just turn into a real monster, one who can’t be saved by anyone or anything.

‘Tis the season…to be undead.

Ben’s redemption rests in the hands of the one woman he loved and lost—Simone Laurent. If Ben is going to have a chance at being more than just the beast in the darkness, he has to prove himself to the lovely Simone. A very hard task, considering that, once upon a Christmas Eve, Simone died in Ben’s arms…

Warning:
This book features one very tortured vampire, a sexy ghost from his past, and hot scenes designed to melt the winter snow. Plenty of action, adult situations, and steamy times are ahead. Happy holidays! 




Available for purchase at 

      



Excerpt

Lust clawed through him. The need, the red-hot desire, seemed to burn Ben from the inside.  He grabbed Simone, yanked her flush against him. His mouth locked on hers. He’d always tried to be so careful with her in the past. Played the gentleman because she mattered.
He wasn't a gentleman any longer. Ben wasn't even sure what he was. He just knew he needed Simone naked, and he had to be in her.
He carried her back to his bedroom. He ignored the glittering New York skyline. She was the only thing he could see. Desire pounded through him. His cock was so swollen that he hurt and—
His teeth were extending. Stretching in his mouth.
Ben dropped Simone on the bed and stepped back, horrified.
“Ben?”  Simone sat up on the bed and pushed back the blonde hair that had tumbled forward. “What’s wrong?”
            She was so gorgeous and sexy staring up at him.  Looking at him with those wide, dark eyes.

I’m going to hurt her. He grabbed for the control that he’d always held so easily in the past. Only that control was broken. Shattered. “You need to leave.”



About the Author

USA Today Best-selling author Cynthia Eden has written over twenty-five novels and novellas. She was named as a 2013 RITA® finalist for her paranormal romance, ANGEL IN CHAINS, and, in 2011, Cynthia Eden was a RITA finalist for her romantic suspense, DEADLY FEAR.
Cynthia is a southern girl who loves horror movies, chocolate, and happy endings.  She has always wanted to write (don’t most authors say that?), and particularly enjoys creating stories about monsters–vampires, werewolves, and even the real-life monsters that populate her romantic suspense stories.

Cynthia’s foreign sales for her books include translations to Japan, Germany, Thailand, Greece, and Brazil.
(Back in the day…) Cynthia graduated summa cum laude from the University of South Alabama where she studied Sociology (because people interest her) and Communication (because she likes to write about said people).  Cynthia has worked as a college admissions counselor, a teacher, and as an editor. But now, Cynthia is thrilled to be spending her days making up stories.



          




Giveaway

A $100 Gift Card to Amazon or Barnes & Noble














Presented By


Monday, November 11, 2013

Release Day Blitz: A Vampire's Christmas Carol by Cynthia Eden


A Vampire's Christmas Carol 
by
Cynthia Eden

Blurb

This holiday season has bite.
Ben Prescott hates Christmas—he’s a vampire, and to him, there’s certainly nothing jolly about the holiday season.  While the humans are running around being merry, he’s hunting in the shadows.  Ben plans to spend the holidays his way…by stalking deadly prey. 

But fate has other plans for Ben.
Three visitors are coming Ben’s way…A demon who will force  Ben to face his past, a ghost who will show Ben the present he could have, and a shifter  who will reveal the darkness that waits in Ben’s future. Unless Ben can change his ways, he may just turn into a real monster, one who can’t be saved by anyone or anything.

‘Tis the season…to be undead.
Ben’s redemption rests in the hands of the one woman he loved and lost—Simone Laurent.  If Ben is going to have a chance at being more than just the beast in the darkness, he has to prove himself to the lovely Simone.  A very hard task, considering that, once upon a Christmas Eve, Simone died in Ben’s arms…  

Warning: 
This book features one very tortured vampire, a sexy ghost from his past, and hot scenes designed to melt the winter snow. Plenty of action, adult situations, and steamy times are ahead. Happy holidays!    



Available for purchase at 

         




Excerpt

The fire flared again, and in the next instant, William was right in front of Ben.  The demon was fast. “You should be more grateful. You’re immortal. One of the most powerful vampires I’ve ever come across. But you’re going down a dark and dangerous path, a path you don’t want to take.”
Ben offered him a grim smile. “It’s the only path for me.” Blood and death and demons. Yeah, that all seemed right.  
“Once you wanted more.”  William grabbed Ben’s hand. The demon’s touch burned, and smoke rose from Ben’s skin. “You just need to remember that. Remember who you were before.” 
Ben twisted his wrist, but, even with his vamp strength, he couldn’t break free from William’s hold.  “Let. Me. Go.” Or he’d be ripping the demon’s head off in the next five seconds.
“I’m the first visitor of the night.”
The first?
“There will be three, and in the end, the choice will be yours.”  William glared at him. “But I’m telling you, asshole, make the right choice.
Ben flashed his fangs and went for the demon’s throat. He braced himself for the acid burn to come. He’d drunk from a demon before, and he knew that taste would be a real bitch. 
Before his fangs could slice into William, flames erupted around them. Surrounded them. And Ben knew he was about to die. His last thought…

About the Author

USA Today Best-selling author Cynthia Eden has written over twenty-five novels and novellas. She was named as a 2013 RITA® finalist for her paranormal romance, ANGEL IN CHAINS, and, in 2011, Cynthia Eden was a RITA finalist for her romantic suspense, DEADLY FEAR.
Cynthia is a southern girl who loves horror movies, chocolate, and happy endings.  She has always wanted to write (don’t most authors say that?), and particularly enjoys creating stories about monsters–vampires, werewolves, and even the real-life monsters that populate her romantic suspense stories.

Cynthia’s foreign sales for her books include translations to Japan, Germany, Thailand, Greece, and Brazil.
(Back in the day…) Cynthia graduated summa cum laude from the University of South Alabama where she studied Sociology (because people interest her) and Communication (because she likes to write about said people).  Cynthia has worked as a college admissions counselor, a teacher, and as an editor. But now, Cynthia is thrilled to be spending her days making up stories.



          






















Presented By


Monday, November 4, 2013

Emma Right's "Dead Dreams" Blog Tour




Tour Stops: 

Monday, 11/4/2013
Tuesday, 11/5/2013
Wednesday, 11/6/2013
Thursday, 11/7/2013
Friday, 11/8/2013
Saturday, 11/9/2013
Sunday, 11/10/2013
Monday, 11/11/2013

Wednesday, 11/13/2013
Talk Supe

Thursday, 11/14/2013
After Dark Rendezvous

Friday, 11/15/2013
Saturday, 11/16/2013
Romancing the Readers

Sunday, 11/17/2013
Monday, 11/18/2013
Readers After Dark

Tuesday, 11/19/2013
Wednesday, 11/20/2013
Notebook of Books

Thursday, 11/21/2013
The Book Club

Friday, 11/22/2013
Saturday, 11/23/2013
Sunday, 11/24/2013
Monday, 11/25/2013
Tuesday, 11/26/2013
Wednesday, 11/27/2013
Brooke Blogs

Thursday, 11/28/2013
Books-n-Kisses
Reading Bliss

Friday, 11/29/2013
Saturday, 11/30/2013
The Author and Reader Spotlight

Sunday, 12/1/2013
Monday, 12/2/2013
My Book Addiction and More



Dead Dreams
By Emma Right

Blurb: 
Eighteen-year-old Brie O’Mara has so much going for her: a loving family in the sidelines, an heiress for a roommate, and dreams that might just come true. Big dreams--of going to acting school, finishing college and making a name for herself. She is about to be the envy of everyone she knew. What more could she hope for? Except her dreams are about to lead her down the road to nightmares. Nightmares that could turn into a deadly reality.


Dead Dreams, Book 1, a young adult psychological thriller and contemporary mystery.




Available to purchase at



Book Trailer





Prologue & Chapter 1


Prologue



They say each dead body, a human corpse, has a scent all of its own, a sweet-sour smell. A cadaver dog picks up the odor as clearly as a mother recognizes a photo of her child. Of course, I wouldn’t know, for I am no dog. I might as well have been, the way I’d stooped to yield to my basic instincts. My mind wandered to her, what her unique smell would be when, and if, they ever were to find her.


  
After what happened, I decided to write out the events that led to that day and details in case Id missed something, or might need it for defense, or in case they found me dead. My relatives might need to piece together the things that had spiraled out of control, if they wanted to put me to rest, to forget me altogether. That would bleast painful for them. I nodded to myself as I sat in the car. I thought of my most favorite girl in the world: Lilly. At least Lillyd have my dog, Holly, to remember me by

My friends used to call me Brie, short for Brianna. But, I could hardly count anyone a friend any more. Id have to resort to back-watching if I wanted to survive.




 Chapter One


It started on a warm April afternoon. Gusts of wind blew against the oak tree right outside my kitchen balcony, in my tiny apartment in Atherton, California. Sometimes the branches that touched the side of the building made scraping noises. The yellow huckleberry flowers twining their way across my apartment balcony infused the air with sweetness.

My mother had insisted, as  was her tendency on most things, I take the pot of wild huckleberry, her housewarming gift, to my new two-bedroom apartment. It wasn’t really new, just new to me, as was the entire experience of living separately, away from my  family, and the prospect of having a roommate, someone who could be a best friend, something I’d dreamed of since I finished high school and debuted into adulthood.

“Wait for me by the curb,” my mother said, her voice blaring from the phone even though I didn’t set her on speaker. You need to eat better. Her usual punctuation at the end of her orders.



So, I skipped down three flights of steps and headed toward the side of the apartment building to await my mothers gift of the evening, salad in an รก la chicken style, her insistent recipe to cure me of bad eating habits. At least it wasn’t chicken soup double-boiled till the bones melted, I consoled myself.

I hadn’t waited long when a vehicle careened round the corner. I heard it first, that high-pitched screech of brakes wearing thin when the driver rammed his foot against it. From the corner of my eye, even before I turned to face it, I saw the blue truck. It rounded the bend where Emerson Street met Ravenswood, tottered before it righted itself and headed straight at me.

I took three steps back, fell and scrambled to get back up as the vehicle like a giant bullet struck the sidewalk I had only  seconds ago stood on. The driver must have lost control, but when he hit the sidewalk it slowed the vehicle enough so he could bridle his speed and manage the truck as he continued to careen down the street.

My mother arrived a half minute later but she had seen it all. Like superwoman, she leaped out of her twenty-year-old Mercedes and rushed toward me, all breathless and blonde hair disheveled.

Are you all right? She reached out to help me up.

Yes, yes,” I said, brushing the dirt off my yoga pants.

“Crazy driver. Brie, I just dont know about this business of you staying alone here like this.” She walked back to her white Mercedes, leaned in the open window, and brought out a casserole dish piled high with something green. Make that several shades of green.

I followed her, admittedly winded.Seriously, Mom. It’s just one of those things. Mad drivers could happen anywhere I live.”

She gave me no end of grief as to what a bad idea it was for me to live alone like this even though she knew I was going to get a roommate.

“Mom, stop worrying,” I said.

Youre asking me to stop being your mother, I hope you realize this.”

“I’ll find someone dependable by the end of the week, I promise.” No way I was going back to live at home. Not that I came from a bad home environment. But I had my reasons.

I had advertised on Craigs List, despite my mothers protests that only scum would answer “those kinds of ads.

Perhaps there was some truth to Mothers biases, but I wouldnt exactly call Sarah McIntyre scum. If she was, what would that make me?

Sarah’s father had inherited the family coalmoney. Their ancestors had emigrated from Scotland (where else, with a name like McIntyre, right?) in the early 1800s and bought an entire mountain (I kid you not) in West Virginia. It was a one-hit wonder in that the mountain hid a coal fortune under it, and hence the McIntyre Coal Rights Company was born. This was the

McIntyre claim to wealth, and also a source of remorse and guilt for Sarah, for supposedly dozens of miners working for them had lost their lives due to the business, most to lung cancer or black lung, as it was commonly called. Hazards of the occupation.

And then there were cave-ins, which presented another set of drama altogether, Sarah said.

I sat across from her, the coffee table between us, in the small living room during our first meeting. So, that’s why youre not on talking terms with your family? Because of abuses of the coal company? I asked.

We sipped hot cocoa and sat cross-legged in the crammed living room, which also doubled as the dining space. I’d never interviewed anyone before, although Id read tips on the Internet.

“I just dont want to be reminded anymore,” she said, twirling her dark ringlets round and round on her pointer finger.

“But, its not entirely your dads fault those people died of lung problems.

“I guess, but I just want to get away, you understand? Anyway, I’m almost twenty-one now. Thats three years too late for moving out and establishing my own space.” She took tiny sips of the cocoa, both hands cupping the mug as if she were cold.

I walked to the thermostat and upped the temperature. A slight draft still stole in from a gap in the balcony sliding door I always kept open a crack to let the air circulate.

“So, your family’s okay with you living here? In California? In this apartment that’s probably smaller than your bathroom?  With a stranger?”

First off, its none of their business. Secondly, you and I won’t stay strangers. Sarah flashed me a grin. “Besides, I’m tired of big houses with too many rooms to get lost in. And, have you lived in West Virginia?

I shook my head. The farthest I’d been was Nevada when we went for our family annual ski vacation. I heard its pretty.

“If you like hot, humid summers and bitter cold winters. So, do I pass? As a roommate?

She looked about at the ceiling. I wondered if she noticed the dark web in the corner and the lack of cornices and crown moldings. I was sure I smelled mold in the living room, too. But I wasn’t in a position to choose. Sarah was.

As long as youre not a psychopath and can pay rent.” I returned her smile.

I dont know about the psychopath part. She shrugged and displayed her white, evenly-spaced teeth. But here’s my bank account.” She tossed me a navy blue booklet with gilded edges and with golden words “Bank of America” on the cover.

I fumbled as I caught it and was unsure what to do. Should I peek?

“Go on. She gestured, flicking her fingers at me as if I were a stray cat afraid to take a morsel of her offering.

No secrets. I can well afford to pay rent. And, I’m a stable individual.

I flipped the first few pages and saw the numerous transactions in lumps my parents, who were by no means poor, would have gasped at. The last page registered the numbers: under deposits, $38,000. My eyes scanned the row of numbers and realized that the sum $38,000 came up every sixth of the month.

My mouth must have been open for she said, You can stop gawking. Its only my trust fund. It comes to me regardless of where I am, or where I stay. So, do I make the cut?”

I handed the bank book back. We discussed the house rules: no smoking; no drugs, and that included pot; no boyfriend sleepovers or wild parties, which was a clause in my landlords lease; and Sarah was to hand me her share of the rent, a mere $800 a month, on the twenty-eighth of every month, since I was the main renter and she the sub-letter.

She didn’t want anything down on paperno checks, no contracts, and no way of tracing things back to her, shed stressed a few times.

She fished in her Louis Vuitton and handed me a brown paper bag, the kind kids carry their school lunches in. I peeked inside and took out a stash of what looked like a wad of papers bundled together with a rubber band. Her three-month share of the deposit, a total of twenty-four crisp hundred-dollar bills. They had that distinct new-bank-notes-smell that spoke of luxury.

I gulped down my hot chocolate. Why all the secrecy? I hope your parents will at least know your address. I said as I wrapped up the interview. I could understand not wanting parents breathing down her neck, but as long as they didn’t insist on posting a guard at the door, what was the harm of them knowing where she lived?

Sarah glanced about the room as if afraid the neighbors might have their ears pinned to the walls, listening.

She leaned forward and, her face expressionless, said softly, “My parents are dead.


About the Author



Emma Right is a happy wife and home school mother of five living in the Pacific West Coast of the USA. Besides running a busy home, and looking after their five pets, which includes two cats, two bunnies and a long-haired dachshund, she also writes stories for her children. When she doesn't have her nose in a book, she is telling  her kids to get theirs in one.

Right worked as a copywriter for two major advertising agencies and won several awards, including the prestigious Clio Award for her ads, before she settled down to have children.


You can stalk, I mean follow Emma here

               




Giveaway

1 Paperback copy of DEAD DREAMS (DOMESTIC ONLY – ebook for International)
1 Amazon Gift Card for $15