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Thursday, June 22, 2017

Summer Reading Promotion - Obsession by JoAnne Keltner on sale for $0.99


The Kindle Countdown for Obsession continues with 3 days of sale price $1.99.

Grab the book for the sale price on June 21, 22, or 23 before it goes back to regular price!


Some obsessions know no boundary…not even death.

About the Book:

Abby had the perfect life: shopping sprees at the mall, a pool in her backyard, a dream bedroom, a BFF… That is, until her family moved to the backwoods of Wisconsin.

Abby plans to prove this backwoods dump is no place for a thirteen-year-old. So when her parents hire a carpenter and his son, Greg, she hangs out with the older boy to make her parents worry. But Greg turns out to be a total creep, and although Abby tells him she doesn’t like him, he continues to make her life miserable, watching her, trying to get close to her, threatening her.

What’s creepier is the mysterious brown-haired girl that keeps appearing and disappearing without saying a word. When Abby finds the girl's diary in the outbuilding, she learns that they share a common enemy, Greg.

Will they share the same fate too?

Grab Your Copy for $1.99:
http://amzn.to/2sgbMKq

Excerpt:
I decided to stay inside today, hide from Greg, and unpack my clothes and stuff. Nothing’s turned out like I planned. Greg’s a total creep, my sister won’t do squat for me, and Mom is so engrossed in her painting she doesn’t have time for anything else. I unpack some games—Pictionary, Scrabble—but I can’t put them in the closet because the ladder is in the way. I find a two-thousand piece puzzle of a landscape. I’ve had enough of landscapes just being here, but I’m bored to tears.
I take it to the dining room and spill the pieces onto the table. I like this room. Maybe because it’s the only finished one in the house. Maybe because it makes me feel like I’m living somewhere other than in the sticks.
I work for a while, matching shapes and patterns, most of all wondering what Katie is doing. It’s not fair that she has a life and I don’t. That I am stuck here without friends and with a creepy boy who hates my guts.
I open a window and stare down the long gravel road. If I didn’t have my period, I would run today. I would show Greg that I’m tough and not to be messed with.
I imagine my gym shoes pounding the gravel road, a trail of dust behind me.
Movement near the outbuilding catches my eye. Standing by the door is a girl about my age with long brown hair, wearing a tank top and a pair of jean shorts. Where did she come from?
She looks in my direction and then pushes open the door and steps inside.
Who is she? The carpenter’s daughter? The daughter of the people who used to live here coming back for her stuff?
I keep my eye on the door waiting for her to come out. I really need a friend right now, especially a girl my age. Maybe we can hang out at the beach together.
I decide to go out to meet her.
At the outbuilding, I slowly push open the door. A stale musty smell hits my nose. The building is practically overrun with furniture and boxes stacked to the ceiling.
I look down the narrow walkways in-between all the junk, but I don’t see a soul. “Hello?” I say, my eyes searching between the crevices of furniture and boxes.
Where did she go? I must have missed her coming out.
“Abby!” Mom says.
I jump. Mom is standing in the doorway. “How did this door get unlocked?”
“There was a girl. She opened the door and walked inside.”
“Where is she? Who is she?”
“I don’t know. She disappeared.”
Mom looks at me like I’m fibbing. “This door was locked,” she says. “I hope no one else has a key. I don’t want anything to happen to the Holts’ things.”
“What if they never come back? What are you going to do with this stuff?”
“I guess I’ll keep it stored for about a year. Then maybe we’ll have a garage sale.”
If we had a garage.
Mom re-locks the door with the padlock and then walks over to the house. Shielding her eyes from the sun, she looks up at the roof. “Mr. Zimmerman. Mr. Zimmerman,” she calls.
Wearing a pair of overalls and no shirt, he peers down at her. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Did you by chance unlock the outbuilding door for any reason?” Mom asks.
“No, ma’am.”
“Are you sure?”
“I don’t have a key. Maybe your husband unlocked it before he left.”
Mom nods. “Yeah, maybe.” Mom returns to the house, and I look around the area for the brown-haired girl, but there’s not a trace of her. When the nail gun pauses, I ask Mr. Zimmerman if he noticed a girl in the yard. He shakes his head and stares at me like I’m crazy. Greg glares at me.
I go back to my puzzle, but I can’t concentrate. It’s hot in here. I open another window and look at the outbuilding. Social deprivation. That’s what it is. I need to get out of here before I completely lose it. And somewhere other than Kukla’s bait shop. I also need to move on my plan to get Mom and Dad to move us back home.
I decide to ask Mom tomorrow, plead with her if I have to, to take me to the beach.



Meet the Author:



JoAnne Keltner is the author of Goth Girl, Virgin Queen (Solstice Publishing, 2015) and Obsession (Musa Publishing, 2013 ed.). As an only child and avid daydreamer, she spent hours alone in her backyard on the South Side of Chicago, which she imagined to be everything from an alien planet to Antarctica. She currently lives in Raleigh, North Carolina, with her husband, four dogs, cat, and three chickens. When she isn’t writing or freelance editing, she’s obsessively streaming popular TV shows.

Social Media Links:

Website: Joannekeltner.com

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

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

Twitter: @JoAnneKeltner

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cover reveal for Welcome to Your Life by Katrina Marie


Welcome to Your Life
Katrina Marie
Publication date: August 3rd 2017
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance
Tonya discovers she’s pregnant a month after breaking up with her high school boyfriend, Jake. She can’t decide whether to tell Jake she’s pregnant when he sees her at the mall with a maternity bag.
Tonya struggles to adjust to working, attending the local community college, and pushing off Jake’s advances to get back together. When she’s paired with the good looking guy from her Art class, Reaf, she has to battle the confusing emotions swirling through her brain and heart.
Can she find love, herself, and become the parent she hopes to be while dealing with pregnancy hormones and drama?


Author Bio:
Katrina Marie lives in the Dallas area with her husband, two children, and fur baby. She is a lover of all things geeky and Gryffindor for life. This is her debut novel and she hopes you enjoy reading it as much as she enjoyed writing it.

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SeQuence Entangled (The Heart of the Ocean #3) by Lorraine M.L.M. cover & trailer reveal


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Wednesday, June 21, 2017

The Secret Deaths Of Arthur Lowe Virtual Book Publicity Tour and Giveaway







Title:
THE SECRET DEATHS OF ARTHUR LOWE

Author: U.L. Harper

Publisher: Independent

Pages: 235

Genre: Speculative Fiction/Horror/Magical Realism

While in the process of bringing his wife, Sandra, back to
the living, Arthur journals about moments from his past that changed him.

During the journal writing, he rediscovers how, as an
orphan, his ability to animate objects and people to life may have ultimately
destroyed the lives of the few who grew close to him. The old stuffed teddy
bear that helped him assemble puzzles when he was a child might have been too
much of a secret for his adoptive mother to keep. His friend Quincy, who had
abilities similar to his, might have been scared away by Arthur’s abilities.
And his grade school teacher is still harboring a secret about his biological
father that she can only hope to be true.

Once Sandra is alive again, things become more complicated.
She claims Arthur is not who or what he thinks he is. Her ire shines a
spotlight on the insidious but most likely true, unspoken nature of their
relationship.

In the meantime, a mysterious smell envelopes the
community—a stench so heinous it can be fatal. As the number of deaths from the
stench mounts, Arthur must decide who to animate back to life and who remains
dead. 

The
Secret Deaths of Arthur Lowe is available at AMAZON.

Book Excerpt:







Arthur pauses the movie and watches his wife, Sandra, stroll
barefoot down the hall to the bathroom.
Moments later, muffled bumps and knocks come from their
bedroom.
“What’re you doing?” he calls to her. 
She doesn’t respond.
He casually sets his mug of tea on the coffee table, stands,
and then heads to check on her.
As he walks into the room, she hurriedly points the barrel
of the handgun at her head, her hand firmly on the grip.
“Sandra.”
“Fuck you,
Arthur.” Her voice trembles, as she pulls the trigger.

***

Shaking and in tears, it’s a struggle to lift her lifeless
body off the bloody carpet and onto the bed.
With her finally on their bed, he relaxes his hand on her
shoulder, lets the life-shaping energy he controls move through him and into
her. In the past, he’s brought people who have not been too physically injured
by their cause of death back to life. It never took long, but Sandra might take
a while.
For decades he’s lacked a reason to animate objects or bring
the dead back to the living. His wife dying is every reason to perform his
ability.
He slips off her sweats and t-shirt, leaves her panties on.
He stops redressing her in one of his shirts, realizing again how she’s dead in
his arms.
Arthur maneuvers her onto her side, tucks her into the fetal
position. To remedy looking at the gun wound to her face, he places a blanket
over her, a temporary measure, merely until she comes back to him. In her
curled position, when he places the blanket over her, it seems as if she’s
asleep. Picturing Sandra asleep is far more comfortable than seeing her dead.
As weeks pass, he tells acquaintances she’s sick. They can
see her when she’s better. In the meantime, a slight aroma gathers around her.
Not as bad as it could be for a normal death. There’s a smell, nonetheless,
like old wet food of some sort. Beans and yogurt, and some kind of old meat.
He checks on her regularly to see if her position has
changed, if there are signs she’s come back to the living. The process never
takes this long, but he’s patient because of her injuries.
If anybody suspects something is wrong they’ll ask too many
questions. So to keep up appearances, he accepts an invitation to have dinner
next door at the house of mutual friends Glenda and Raheem.
Knowing the best lies are half true, he knocks on their
door.
Raheem yells from the other side, tells Arthur to let
himself in, which he does.
Glenda and Raheem sit at the dining room table with their
kids—Shelly, a stunningly cute little girl nine years of age, with thick, kinky
dark hair like her mother, and Tracy, an energetic, yet obedient, young boy,
ten years of age.
They have small talk about the needed rain in arid Southern
California, and about the stupid patrons at Raheem’s work. And,
yes, that awkward pungent scent the public smells seems to be getting more vile
each day. Arthur appreciates the normalcy the conversation brings.
Glenda and Raheem cut the conversation short to bring in the
food—chicken, vegetables, mashed potatoes, and water. The food all there,
Raheem leads grace. Automatically the kids bow their heads. Glenda squints.
Raheem bows his head. Arthur does not participate.
As they eat, the family members all hang their heads,
politely chew. They clank plates with their utensils. It’s as if something is
wrong, or at the very least, being hidden by their bowed heads.
Raheem’s muscles are thicker than anybody’s Arthur knows.
The dining light glistening off Raheem’s bald head.
 “It’s hard to believe
how sick she is.” Glenda cuts into her boneless chicken breast. Her tight
pigtails with pink barrettes clipped on the ends.
“As suddenly as she got sick, you’d think it was
contagious.” Although holding a spoon, Raheem speaks with his hands. “You’re
not contagious are you?”
“Arthur,” Glenda’s voice is rhythmic. “How is she?”
Glenda is going gray, significantly more silver streaks in
the last few months. Her complexion much darker than Raheem’s, who is more
yellow than brown. On the other hand, she’s dark like Arthur. Some might call
her skin color milk chocolate. In their forties, signs of the three’s aging are
a tad more prevalent than years prior. Arthur has less hair and his belly won’t
stop growing. Raheem is in great shape but weighs more than ever. He doesn’t go
to the gym as often, because he lacks the give-a-shit.
Arthur bites into his chicken. “She’ll be okay, contrary to
popular belief. Nothing she hasn’t faced before.”
Raheem scoops peas on his spoon. “I’ve heard people have
died from this particular flu bug.”
“She hasn’t left the room for over a week,” Glenda says.
Raheem begins, “Hey, man, if you need help with anything…”
“Truth is, I’m good,” Arthur quickly responds. “I don’t need
help. She doesn’t need help.”
Glenda gently places both of her hands on the table. “Nobody
is trying to, I guess, seem like they know everything. I can hear you getting
defensive. I hear you. We’re thinking she’s probably more sick than you think
she is. We’re betting… I’m betting
she needs a doctor.”
Raheem leans forward, squinting. “Dog, I’m going to chime in
on someone I deeply care about and say, why don’t you get her checked out?
She’s hella not good. You have to remember, she’s not just your wife. She’s a
friend of ours too. I know sometimes you get a certain way…so you can’t hear
what people are saying, but hear this. Arthur, go get Sandra some damned help.”
Damn it, an
intervention. “We’re fine. We saw a doctor.”
“Kids.” Raheem jabs a finger towards the living room.
Their food mostly eaten, Tracy and Shelly excuse themselves.
“You’re being disrespectful as shit by lying to me in my
house.” Raheem leans back.
“’Heem…” Arthur starts.
“Ra heem.”
“I’m sorry if I come off rude. It’s just that it’s something
that’s not up to me or you guys. It’s hard to see her like that. It’s harder
with you calling me a liar.”
“Would she be better off in the hospital?” Glenda says.
Arthur drops his knife and fork on his plate, lets them
clang together. “This isn’t going to work. Again, thanks for dinner.”
Raheem folds his arms. “You sure you talked to somebody
about her?”
“I inquired,” Arthur boldly lies to them. “I really don’t
want to talk about it.”
Glenda stops mid-chew. “It’s because the Flu-like symptoms
caused by the air. It might not be some sort of Flu. Just take her to the
doctor. They’re probably dealing with it a whole lot down there.”
“Thank you for the meal. Thank you for being honest and exactly who you guys are.” Tracy and
Shelly have settled in to watching television. “Beautiful family. You’re giving
them the childhood I wish I had, you
know that?”
“Okay, thank you.” Raheem says, pushing himself away from
the table. “So you’re going to deflect the whole thing.”
Arthur leaves, now certain that by lying he’s making the
situation worse. Deep down, since Sandra’s death, loneliness has been eating at
him. Truly, the only person he wants to talk to about Sandra is Sandra.

***

In his home office, Arthur fires up his computer, begins a
word processing file, and names it “Sandra”. To help in thinking about her,
he’ll write to her. How can it hurt?

***

My dear Sandra,


When I think back to that moment when you shot yourself, I
get stuck. Thinking about it, I spend my days watching the sun from the office
window. Before I know how much time has gone, the sun has faded into nothing. I
don’t know why I feel guilty, but I do
feel guilty. Nearly twenty-five years of marriage and I never abused you, never
cheated on you, and never intentionally lied to you, but I feel guilty as if
you killing yourself is my fault.
I should have known whatever I did—and I don’t know what I
did—was wrong. Because of my ignorance, I cleaned your blood from off the
bedroom mirror, wiped bits of skull from the dresser, picked up pieces of
forehead from the carpet. The puddles are gone, but the blood stains are still
there, will always be there.
Seeing what’s left of your suicide makes me wish for my own
death. I’ve thought about leaping off a building, wishing a stray bullet from
somewhere would strike me in the gut and end my life. Plenty of people are like
you and me and have pondered putting a gun to their head and pulling the
trigger. We’re not the minority. People want to die. But they want people to
have cared for them too. Me and you—people in general—have mental lists of who
we think will give a damn about us dying. If I kill myself, with you gone, I
wonder who will mourn me.
I keep racking my brain about how it happened. Where in the
world did you gather the courage to kill yourself?





About the Author

U.L. Harper is a speculative fiction/horror
author, influenced by magical realism. A former journalist from Long Beach, California, he now resides in the evergreen state of Washington with his wife. He is a soon-to-be father,
and an avid Dodgers fan.
His
latest book is the speculative fiction/horror/magical realism novel, THE SECRET DEATHS OF ARTHUR LOWE.

WEBSITE & SOCIAL LINKS:

WEBSITE
| TWITTER | FACEBOOK

Interview with U L Harper
  1. What is your favorite part of this book and why? This sounds like it could easily be a spoiler. Since I don’t mind spoilers, here goes. There are numerous parts that I love about The Secret Deaths of Arthur Lowe. But one that stands out to me is when Arthur is convinced that he needs to impress his future wife. I use the moment to showcase his ability to the reader. At that point in the story we haven’t seen him do anything like what he does in that scene. I should go ahead and say what he does. I don’t think it’s too big a spoiler. Arthur and Sandra are middle school age, and Arthur takes her on a date to a park where he takes sand and tosses it in the air. The debris turns into them as small children playing. At one point, Sandra addresses her younger sand-self. It’s a really wild scene. I dig on the moment because of the layers involved. From a storytelling standpoint, obviously it’s kind of a reveal, as the entire story is, but this is significant. And it changes their relationship. They gain trust through it. Now she has a secret to keep, and he needs to trust her with the secret. Really fun stuff. From a writing standpoint, it’s one of those beautiful scenes. It’s one of the times the novel keeps you in our reality but says, hey, magic is in fact real.
  2. If you could spend time with a character from your book whom would it be? And what would you do during that day? Without a doubt, I’d spend the day with Quincy. Quincy is a childhood friend who pops back up into Arthur’s life. It’d be him because he’s by far the most mysterious individual. When he says he does something, you’re like, seriously. That happened? And then his updates on his relationships are bonkers. I’d want to see all of it first-hand.
  3. If you could have been the author of any book ever written, which book would you choose? I wish I would have written Clive Barker’s Imajica. The end of that one is probably the best ending. I can’t imagine there ever being an ending to a novel so good. The story is far past epic in the first place, but I remember approaching the end going, but, dang, what’s it all ABOUT. Then he lets you know. I would love to write that book.
  4. Are your characters based off real people or did they all come entirely from your imagination? I never base entire characters on people. Arthur is loosely based on me. Very loosely. I don’t have any special abilities, but his school experiences were mine. His favorite book as a child is, Ferdinand, as was mine. His current job takes place at a school where I ran an after-school program years ago. The women in the novel are based on nobody I know. Parts of Quincy are based on this dude named Mike Fox who died when I was in junior high. Mike Fox in no way was a cool dude. Couldn’t stand him. Straight bully. But charismatic. To expand on the answer a little further, fiction is not made in a vacuum. It bothers me when people say they read non-fiction because they want to better themselves, but it’s through fiction you learn about people on an emotional level. That, and deep down I think people read non-fiction, not to expand their horizons but to confirm their own ideas. But that’s not where this question is supposed to go, so I’ll end it right there.
  5. What made you want to become a writer? I like the idea of mind control. When done well, fiction writing touches people in ways unexpected. I’ll bring it back to Arthur Lowe. While reading it, you’ll be thinking, basically, exactly what I want you to think on a number of subjects. If you’re not thinking it, I still know what you’re thinking because you’re probably in some kind of disagreement on the subject. Deep down that’s what made me want to write well. Yes, people, it’s all about power. On another level, a big part of why I write is because I can flush some things out of my system through the pages. In example, there’s a moment in Arthur Lowe when Quincy points out how Arthur is the statistic that people talk about, and it’s a wonder he achieved so much, considering the conditions. As it relates to me, I remember realizing one day I was a statistic survivor myself. Those things matter, somehow. In the end, it’s as if everything somehow matters.







U.L. Harper is giving away a free
e-copy of his book!

Terms & Conditions:
  • By entering
    the giveaway, you are confirming you are at least 18 years old.
  • One winner
    will be chosen via Rafflecopter to receive one free e-copy of THE SECRET
    DEATHS OF ARTHUR LOWE.
  • This
    giveaway ends midnight June 30.
  • Winner will
    be contacted via email on June 31.
  • Winner has
    48 hours to reply.
Good luck everyone!

ENTER TO WIN!



a Rafflecopter giveaway





This tour is brought to you by








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Book Blast for HE TAKES THE CAKE by J. LYNN ROWAN



HE TAKES THE CAKE
by J. Lynn Rowan

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

GENRE: Contemporary romance

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

BLURB:

Life is good for Tess Gardiner: Her Savannah, Georgia, bakery and cafe is thriving. She’s earned Master Pastry Chef status from the American Culinary Federation. And she’s attending a regional culinary convention in Charleston, where she’s been invited to sit on a small business panel discussion. The opportunity to tout her success will, hopefully, lead to bigger and better things in her professional life. As for her personal life? The relative contentedness she’s enjoyed for years receives a sudden jolt when she comes face to face with Tyler Brinks, the ex-boyfriend she summarily dismissed from her life eight years ago.


Tyler’s success as a highly-trained chef has launched him into the stratosphere. He already owns one ridiculously successful restaurant, and he’s aggressively working on plans for a second. But he’s never quite gotten over Tess, and he’s never really been sure what actually went wrong between them. So when a pastry and baking competition is announced for the week following the culinary convention in Charleston, Ty jumps at the chance to tempt Tess with the challenge of being his partner, giving him the perfect opportunity to remind her how good they once were together.


As the competition heats up in the kitchen, it soon becomes clear to Tess that Ty has more than cream puffs and cupcakes on his mind. And she can’t deny that her feelings for Ty never truly cooled, but have been simmering all these years, despite the way their relationship ended. Now Ty’s attention has her wondering—is this just the path to final closure? Or could this be a second chance at true love?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Excerpt Two:

If Ty’s thinking about the same incidents that lead to our breakup, he doesn’t let on. “Only about a year or so. It . . . wasn’t what I thought it would be.”

“I see.” Though I don’t, especially given his own slight stumble for words. “Where’d you go in the interim?”

He relaxes a bit and takes a sip of espresso. “New York for a little while, working as a sous chef in a Midtown restaurant. That let me save up for Le Cordon Bleu.”

His dream.

I smile, sincerely happy he’d made it come true. “Were you able to go to Paris?”

“No,” he says with a short laugh. “But Ottawa was close enough. My mom wanted me to try and get into the program in Atlanta, but I wanted the international experience. So Canada it was.”

I make a noncommittal sound and lift my cup again. “Then you settled on Charleston to open your first restaurant.”

“Well, it wasn’t a direct route from getting my Grand Diploma to opening On the Brink.”

“Nice name, by the way,” I quip, arching a brow at him.

He leans forward. “Says the woman who named her own business after herself.”

I give into the impulse to stick my tongue out at him. “At least mine rhymes. And we’re not talking about me.”

“Not yet, anyway.”

“But you’re opening a place in Hilton Head. Does that mean you’re moving there, too?”

Ty shrugs. “I’ll probably have to do a little back and forth for a while. Can’t exactly be the head chef at two restaurants at the same time.”

There’s the opening I need to hint at the topic I’m really curious about. “Won’t the back and forth thing make it hard for . . . your girlfriend?”

For a moment, he freezes, recognizing by my tone that I’m fishing for information. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Really?” I force nonchalant surprise, if that’s even a thing, into my voice. “Guy like you, I’d think you’d have women falling all over themselves to be with you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, brows lowering and a look of hurt defensiveness playing in his eyes.

I wasn’t expecting that sort of reaction from him. Again, I fumble for words. “Smart, successful, funny, sexy—”

My hand flies up to cover my mouth, but it’s too late. Ty stares at me for a few seconds before he busts out laughing.

“I didn’t mean that I think you’re sexy,” I insist, dropping my hand.

His laughter subsides to internal chuckles. “It’s okay, Tess. I know I’m irresistible, even to you.”

“That’s not—”

“For the record, I still think the same of you.” He sounds like he’s teasing, but a flash of something serious passes between us as his gaze softens.

My retort dies in my throat, coming out as a choked snort instead.




~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AUTHOR Bio and Links:


Author Bio:

J. Lynn Rowan started writing stories as a small child, usually starring her favorite cartoon characters. Most of her work through middle and high school was filled with typical teenage angst and melodrama, and usually mirrored the books she loved to read. But eventually she found her own author’s voice and decided to seriously pursue a writing career.

Historical fiction remains J. Lynn’s “first love”, but she has enjoyed the journey to becoming an author of romance and chick lit. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, the Central New York Romance Writers, and the Historical Novel Society. She is also a teacher who tries to instill a love of learning, reading, and writing in her students.

When she’s not writing, J. Lynn enjoys travelling, gardening poorly but enthusiastically, studying various topics in American history for her own expertise, and channeling Julia Child every time she steps into the kitchen.

A native of Oswego, NY, she now lives in Charlotte, NC, with her own Romantic Hero of a husband and their little rainbow, affectionately known as Babycakes.

Email: jlynnrowanliterature@gmail.com

BETTER THAN CHOCOLATE PURCHASE LINKS

WHEN IN ROME PURCHASE LINKS

THE ONE I’M WITH PURCHASE LINKS





~~~~~~~~~~~~~

GIVEAWAY INFORMATION 

$20 Amazon/BN GC





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Something Beautiful by Amanda Gernentz Hanson blitz


Something Beautiful
Amanda Gernentz Hanson
Published by: Pen Name Publishing
Publication date: June 27th 2017
Genres: Contemporary, Young Adult

Cordelia and Declan have been best friends since they were three years old. By the time they hit middle school, Cordelia—Cord, to Declan—is already feeling the blackness in her life as depression takes hold. Their mutual attraction to each other leads to a serious high school relationship, one with their foundation of friendship at the forefront. Cordelia seems to have her mental health under control. All appears to be well.

However, when Declan starts to accept his own fluid sexuality, it sets something in motion in their lives that is both beautiful and tragic as they learn to love each other for who they are.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Kobo

—

EXCERPT:

Chapter 1—Now

October 2014

“Fresh off of her book tour, I have here an advocate who is actively involved in fighting inequality in her daily life. I give you, Cordelia Quinn!” The rally organizer steps aside, and I can finally see the crowd. I wave, and the rally organizer gives me a dazzling smile before she continues. “Cordelia Quinn is the bestselling author of The Yellow Wood, a coming-of-age story about a boy and a girl who are best friends as children but choose different paths as adults and then come together later in life. She is also an award-winning screenwriter and one of the most outspoken LGBTQ allies in publishing. Please join me in welcoming her to the podium!” The crowd breaks into thunderous applause that echoes through the cold air, and a smile pulls at the corners of my mouth.

I can’t lie—I’m nervous. I’m not good at hiding my emotions, so I’m afraid that people might be able to tell. I hate crowds, and I hate public speaking. I’ve managed to avoid it ever since I spoke at high school graduation.

“Hello, Topeka,” I begin. My voice is shaking. God, I hope no one notices.

The crowd is rumbling below me, waiting for me to say something good. I’m not even sure I have anything good to say. I’m so bad at this. But I’ve learned that being honest is usually the best way to go, so I decide to veer away from my prepared speech and try for candor.

“I’m going to admit something to you,” I say, gripping the sides of the podium to keep my hands from trembling. I can’t be trusted to hold papers or they’ll be shaking so much that I can’t read them. “I’m not a fan of public speaking, and I don’t usually speak at rallies like this one. But this issue… it’s really important to me. Those of you who have read my book know that. So, when my publicist asked me to come here and talk to you, I couldn’t really turn her down.”

The crowd cheers, and I smile and take a deep breath. With each breath, I feel more at ease, more comfortable speaking up here in front of everyone. I close my eyes for a second, trying to center myself. I see my children’s faces, and my grin widens.

“Honestly, I don’t have a lot to say,” I continue, gaining confidence. “I believe in equality. I believe in love. And I believe that the government should not tell us who we are allowed to love and marry.” At this, all I can think about are the people I left at home—the people who I love, the person I married. I’m lucky. I’ve never had to fight for those rights. “The politicians who are fighting against marriage equality are all active in their conservative churches—well, ladies and gentlemen, I find two issues with that. First, this country was founded on the separation of church and state—it’s in the First Amendment of the Constitution. What ever happened to that?”

I’m on a roll now. My hands have stopped shaking and everything.

“And second, marriage isn’t just about love. Anyone who has made that kind of commitment to someone can tell you that. There are legal rights that come with marriage that should be available to everyone, no matter who they love!”

I can’t help it. I start looking for him. He’s here. I can feel it.

And then I see him, and my face breaks open into the giddy sort of smile I wish I could contain. I knew he’d come. We’ve been apart for weeks now while I’ve been on my book tour, and I’ve missed him so much. Almost as much as I’ve missed the kids. God, I wish they were here with me.

As I make eye contact with him, an idea strikes. I decide to roll with it. “I’m very pleased to tell you that the person who inspired my book is with us tonight. I’d like to call him up here, so that you can meet the first man I ever loved—Declan MacLeod. Come up here, Dec!”

People turn to look at him as he shakes his head and starts moving toward me. I can nearly feel my body vibrating. I can’t wait to be next to him again, to feel his warm hand in mine. My smile is so big it feels like it’s going to split my face in two.

“I’m going to kill you,” he whispers in my ear as he wraps his arms around me. I want him to hold me forever, to never let go of me, to keep me safe and warm wrapped in his strong arms. But we’re in front of all of these people. He has to let go.

“No, you’re not,” I murmur back. “You’re better at this stuff than I am. Tell them something. Anything.” He starts chewing on his bottom lip as he thinks, and I throw him a sharp look. I’ve been on him about that since high school, but he always slips back into the old habit when we’re apart.

He makes his way to the podium and clears his throat. “Hello,” he starts as he waves at the crowd. “I had no idea that I was going to be speaking here tonight, so I apologize if what I say doesn’t make any sense.” He takes a deep breath and glances back at me. “As Cordelia mentioned, I’m Declan MacLeod. I grew up across the street from her in Hamden, Connecticut. Now, I spend most of my time in New York, performing on Broadway.”

The crowd is hypnotized, and I don’t blame them. I’ve been told that, together, Dec and I are hypnotic. We have an energy. I’m not sure I agree—I think he’s the one who radiates energy and charisma, whose skin feels electrifying, no matter how many times I touch it.

As I watch him look out into the crowd, I know one thing—he’s everything. He’s my reason, my why. He’s it for me. I’d be nothing without him.



Author Bio:

Amanda Gernentz Hanson has been writing stories since the third grade, when she entered a five-page story about talking dogs into a local youth arts contest. She is an instructional designer by day and an everything else by night. Amanda is a proud Latina who earned her Bachelor’s degree in Chemistry from Hope College and her Master’s degree in Technical Communication from Minnesota State University. You can find her on the internet at browneyedtwentysomething.com, diverseladybookproject.tumblr.com, and on Twitter and Instagram @amandamariegh. If you see her in the wild, she probably has a book in her purse.

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Stonetree Trilogy by Ophelia Bell blitz


Stonetree Trilogy
Ophelia Bell
(Black Mountain Bears #1-3)
Publication date: August 29th 2016
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance

Gaia save the Queen…

Emma Stonetree’s father is missing. Worse yet, her uncle’s gone too, leaving her and her two cousins, Jasper and Jade, floundering for an explanation.

All Emma can think of are their fathers’ stories—tall tales of magic, mystery, and a whole host of shifter races. Stories she might not have believed, if not for her own research into the matter—research that hardly prepares her for the trials of magic she and her cousins will endure as they set off that Midwinter’s night to discover their roots.

Nor does it prepare the three for what they find on the other side of the mystical portal their fathers disappeared into: the ursa, a fertility-focused race of bear shifters, with customs that defy their human sensibilities. Except the trio swiftly learn they aren’t really human either, and once inside the ursa Sanctuary, they are just as bound by ursa laws as the earth is bound by the seasons.

Emma and her cousins must make a choice: accept their legacies as ursa royalty, accept the love they find inside the sanctuary, or reject their passions and retreat to their safe, mundane lives, never to return to the realm they were meant to inherit.

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EXCERPT:

“Where am I now?”

“In the Sanctuary, Princess,” Green-Eyes said.

She sat up, scrubbing her hands over her face, then raked her fingers through her tangled hair. A warm breeze blew through, tickling across her skin, the sensation way too pleasant and intimate. She shivered, glancing down her body and realizing she wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing. Her stomach lurched, her entire body growing intensely warm at the realization she was buck naked. She immediately clutched her knees to her chest and looked wildly around.

“Where the fuck are my clothes?”

Brown-Eyes chuckled. “You left quite the trail of breadcrumbs. It was fun watching the striptease you gave us on the way in.” He let out a pleased sigh. “Gorgeous, really.”

Emma stared at him, shocked at the appraising look he gave her and uncertain whether she should be offended or flattered. At least until she gave him a once-over and realized he was just as au naturel as she was. She raised an eyebrow, then turned to look at her other new companion. Yep. Green-Eyes was as bare as a newborn. He was also definitely all hard-bodied man and not the least bit shy about it.

Seeing his naked body made her forget about her own. How in the world could a man so perfect actually exist? So perfectly messy, really. His brown hair was short, but a little shaggy, sticking out in all directions like he’d worried it over and over. He was well-muscled without being bulky, with a long, lean torso, his chest covered in a luxuriant layer of hair. Just enough to make her want to run her fingers down his chest and stomach, but not so thick that she’d think of him as actually furry. The hair tapered past his navel, the natural growth a kind of arrow pointing southward, and her eyes followed.

A throat cleared, but Emma found it difficult to tear her eyes away from the slumbering beast that was nestled between the man’s legs. Jesus, he wasn’t even hard and he was that big?

“See something you like, Princess?”

Um, everything?



Author Bio:

Ophelia Bell loves a good bad-boy and especially strong women in her stories. Women who aren't apologetic about enjoying sex and bad boys who don't mind being with a woman who's in charge, at least on the surface, because pretty much anything goes in the bedroom.

Ophelia grew up on a rural farm in North Carolina and now lives in Los Angeles with her own tattooed bad-boy husband and four attention-whoring cats.

If you'd like to receive regular updates on Ophelia's publications, freebies, and discounts, please subscribe to her mailing list: http://opheliabell.com/subscribe/

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