Isle of Savages by T. Briar with Interview and Giveaway

Isle of Savages

T. Briar

Genre: New Adult Action Suspense Thriller

Publisher: MuseItUp Publishing

Date of Publication: June 13, 2017

eBook ISBN: 978-1-77127-926-0

ASIN: B07195LTB8

Number of pages: 220

Word Count: 59,400 words

Cover Artist: Eerilyfair Design

Tagline: Eleven souls are shipwrecked on an island teeming with sub-human cannibals. Who will survive to tell the tale?

Book Description:

On July 20, 20— a charter school’s sponsored sail from San Diego to Hawaii hits a reef during a violent storm. Sixteen souls abandon ship. Nine students, along with the hated captain and first mate, wash up on what they believe is a deserted island.

Separated into three groups by circumstance and mutual distrust, treachery and death lurks for all. Over the course of a single day, one student betrays all the others. Another drowns. Two others get ambushed by a great white shark. And, like falling dominoes, the captain, first mate, and six students fall prey to a tribe of bloodthirsty cannibals.

In the face of almost certain death, who will escape from the isle of savages to tell the tale?

MuseItUp    Amazon     BN    iTunes    Kobo

Excerpt:

Excerpt # 8

Preoccupied with the horror facing them, Mia never saw Eric raise or aim the pistol, only flinched five successive times from the loud reports of the hammer striking the firing pin to send five little savages crumpling to the ground.

“The spears!” Eric growled at the girls following behind Mia as soon as they reached the statue. “Arm yourselves.”

The girls, wide-eyed and obviously terrified, obeyed with alacrity. Casey snatched up one, Veronica two, with Jennifer choosing two also. Mia noticed Tanya had stopped twenty feet short of them, the exact prescribed distance Eric had dictated.

Blam-blam-blam-blam-blam! Shots rang out, almost on top of them, definitely coming from the shoreline.

Eric seemed to pay the echoes no attention whatsoever, glancing at the girls and their weapons. “Okay. Let’s go to the edge of the jungle and take a look to see what’s going on. If it’s relatively safe, we don’t stop running until we’re in the water, and then we don’t stop swimming until we’re on the ship. Got it?”

All the girls, including Mia, quickly nodded.

“Let’s go.” Eric skirted the statue at a crouching run, pausing only when he reached the edge of the jungle.

Blam-blam-blam-blam-blam! The shots came from directly in front of them now.

“Fuck!” Eric darted worried eyes at Mia as if to ask if she saw what he was seeing.

She did.

The captain and some other fella were lying prone in the sand on either side of the raft, fending off the savages hiding in the jungle flanking them, and by default, Eric’s and Mia’s survival party.

Even worse, fifty yards out to sea, between the yacht that floated dangerously close to reef and the raft on dry land, a shark patrolled the waters. By the size of the bluish gray dorsal fin cutting the water, Mia judged it to be close to seventeen feet in length. For whatever the reason being, she couldn’t help wondering if the handle of a stainless-steel butcher’s knife sprouted from one of its eyes, along with deep stab marks in its snout.

“What are we going to do now?” Mia asked, wanting to hear sheer brilliance come flowing out of Eric’s mouth.

Instead, he averted his eyes and hung his head. “I’ve got an idea, but you’re not going to like it.”

About the Author:

Always striving for pulse-pounding action, sitting-on-the-edge-of-your-seat suspense, and hair-raising thrills, T. Briar’s mainstream thriller writing places courageous heroes and heroines in the fight of their lives against the elements, hostile surroundings, morally bankrupt villains, and any other obstacles T. can think of.

But be warned, once the wheels are set into motion with the first sentence, it’s a twisting, turning journey to the end to see who lives and who dies. And make no mistake, someone’s going to die. Some will even die badly. That’s just the way it is when fighting for survival under perilous conditions. The only question is: Will it be the heroes and heroines, or the villains?

T. Briar’s target audience is New Adults who boldly step up to meet life’s challenges with the confidence of youth urging them on.

Please checkout T. Briar’s page at http://thomasbriar.com to find out more about T. and his thriller writings.

Interview with T. Briar

Where do you get inspiration for your stories?

Usually by seeing the opening scene in my mind’s eye. In the case of Isle of Savages, I saw Eric lying face-down in the wave-wash, coughing and sputtering, simply trying to live. After taking a closer look, I couldn’t resist writing his story.

How did you do research for your book?

I used the Internet. It seems funny to me now, but a few years ago I published a story in my other genre that I’d written from meticulous notes I’d taken before the advent of the Internet. I remember spending days perusing medical texts and obscure medical books from the 1800’s, all that jazz. These days I could have done the research in a single afternoon on the Internet.

Do you have another profession besides writing?

Not really. At this point, my primary goal is to get more books published. Just wish I could write faster.

If you could go back in time, where would you go?

I liked the 1980’s pretty good. Probably would go back there to school my younger self about the realities of writing and what all I expected him to get done for us before we turned thirty.

What is your next project?

My very next project is finishing an erotic novella/novel. I think I’m half-finished with it right now but who knows how many words it will turn out to be. I never do. Just a vague outline so the story goes where it should without author intrusion. I’m hoping to get it finished no later than the first day of August. This is extremely important to me because I want to be finished with my next thriller by New Year’s Eve. But I’m giving no guarantees on either deadline. 

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Heart of a Thief by Ella Miles blitz

Heart of a Thief
Ella Miles
Publication date: June 26th 2017
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense

I’m the villain in most romances.

I’m a thief that steals happily ever afters.

Except unlike most romances love doesn’t conquer me, I conquer it.

I’ve stolen countless women from unsuspecting men.

Gotten my one night with them.

And then watched the heartbreak that occurs in my wake.

Love doesn’t survive once I enter the picture, if it ever existed at all.

Although, stealing Sloane might be my greatest challenge of all.

Asher is a villain trying to a put a horrible life behind him by doing the only two things he knows to do: surf and steal. Sloane is an angel that runs a charity helping children needing a fresh start. Asher will do anything to have her. There is just one problem…she’s about to marry another man.

Goodreads / Amazon

—

CHAPTER ONE:

I grab a beer out of the mini fridge while I wait to see if Danielle is coming up or not. I pop the cap off against the counter in my hotel room and then bring the cold liquid to my lips as I stare at the door.

I met Danielle three weeks ago. It was a lucky happenstance really. Well, lucky for me, not so lucky for her. I met her like I meet most of my targets—in a bar. She was with her fiancé, minding her own business, just having a drink at the bar, when he was called away for work. That was when I stepped in and gave her the attention that she was so desperate for.

That’s all it took. One night of being nice to her, and I knew I could steal her from her fiancé. I knew it wouldn’t take long. I probably could have had her that night if I really wanted. But that’s not my game. Cheating isn’t enough. Many a men take back fiancées or wives who have cheated on them. No, I don’t entice the women so that they will cheat on their husbands. I hit on the women to steal them and make them mine—at least, until I get bored with them.

I’m not looking for anything long-term. I’ve never dated a woman for longer than a few weeks after claiming her as mine. Others, I get bored with much faster. I’m not really after the women. I’m after the chase that comes with stealing them away, and that satisfies the rush I used to get when I stole objects instead of people.

I don’t know which makes me a worse person. Stealing things like cars, money, or jewelry. Or stealing women and their hearts. But, this way, at least I don’t have to worry about going to jail.

I sit on the edge of the bed as I take another sip of my beer. I thought tonight was the night I would claim her. I thought tonight was the night I would steal her away. But, as every second passes, I become less sure of myself.

Maybe Danielle loves her fiancé, Wade, more than I thought she did.

I hear a soft knock on my door. Once, twice, and then a pause before the third knock. I grin before I down the rest of my beer and toss it into the trash can as I walk to the door. I open it and widen my eyes when I see Danielle standing outside my door, like I’m surprised that she is standing here even though I’m not the least bit surprised.

“What are you doing here, Danielle? Shouldn’t you be in bed, dreaming about that fiancé you are going to marry tomorrow?” I ask.

I haven’t stolen her yet. Not fully. I don’t win until she’s broken up with him, and I’ve had her in my bed.

Danielle wraps her arms across her chest, covering her cleavage that was sticking out from beneath her sparkly white dress that she wore to the rehearsal tonight.

I didn’t have to do much to get Danielle here. At least, not tonight. All I did was show up at the rehearsal. I made an appearance in the background, and it was enough to convince Danielle that she might be making a huge mistake.

“I’m not getting married tomorrow,” Danielle says.

“Oh,” I say, my voice dripping with sadness that isn’t the least bit real. “Would you like to come in?”

She nods, and I hold the door open for her. She walks over to the edge of my bed and sits down. I walk over to the mini fridge and pull two beers out. I open the caps on both and then hand one to her. She takes it, loosely holding it in her hand. She stares at it for a while, not able to look at me.

I keep my distance until she is ready to talk. Leaning against the counter next to the mini fridge, I sip on my beer.

“I broke up with Wade tonight,” Danielle finally says.

“I gathered that. Why though?”

She looks up at me with puppy-dog eyes. “Because I don’t love Wade anymore. I love you.”

I look at her seriously and say, “I want you.”

She hears I love you though. It’s clear from the goofy smile and blushed cheeks.

But that’s the one thing I won’t ever do. I won’t lie to these women. I can’t help it if they hear what they want to hear.

I put my beer down and walk over to her until I’m standing between her legs. I take the beer out of her hand and place it on the counter. Her eyes follow me.

I push her back on the bed, and then I take the off the T-shirt I’m wearing… She bites her lip as she stares at my abs that have formed from surfing every day.

“Tell me you want me to fuck you,” I say.

Danielle sits up and unzips the back of her dress, letting it fall to her waist, revealing her white lacy bra that holds her perky breasts in, away from me.

“Fuck me, Asher.”

I grin as I grab ahold of her dress and roughly pull it off her body. She lets out a gasp.

She grabs at my neck, trying to pull me in so that she can kiss me. I let her pull me into her. I let her kiss me, and then I turn the kiss into rough kisses that show her what I really want.

“You like it rough,” she says.

“Don’t you?” I ask.

“I like anything with you.”

I flip her over on the bed, and she lets out another surprised gasp.

I slap her ass. “I’m going to fuck this later, but first, I have to claim your pussy.”

“God, just fuck me already. I can’t wait,” she cries into the pillow that she is now face down on.

I sigh. “They never have patience,” I mutter to myself, annoyed that I can’t take my time to properly enjoy her body.

“What?” she asks.

“Nothing,” I say, hitting her hard on the ass, causing her to cry out.

I shove my shorts and briefs down and pull out a condom from the nightstand. I quickly slip it on before she finds a way to get herself off without me.

“Ready?” I ask, pulling her panties down and positioning myself at her entrance.

“Just fuck me already.”

I do. I push inside her tight pussy that I know is anything but ready for me. I’ve barely spent any time turning her on, but if this is what she wants, I won’t object.

She moans loudly and then quickly starts screaming, “Yes…yes,” over and over.

I keep thrusting until I come, not concerned at all if she comes or not. I’m an asshole after all. Although most have called me worse than that.

She must have come because she screams loudly, followed by nothing.

I pull out of her and go to the bathroom to clean myself off. When I’m done, I stay in the bathroom with my hands clenching either side of the sink as I look at myself in the mirror. I can’t handle this woman much longer. It was hard enough to pretend to like her to get her to want me, but now that I’ve had her once, I don’t think I can keep up the act to fuck her more than that. I’m ready for the implosion to happen.

I walk back out and dig through my suitcase to find a fresh pair of briefs to put on. After I do, I glance over at Danielle, who is now under the covers of the bed. Her cheeks are flushed, her brown eyes heavy, and her long brown hair is a mess on top of her head.

“That was amazing,” she says.

I nod and force my lips to curl up into something that resembles a smile.

“I’m ready to go again if you are. Or if you want to sleep some first…”

I take a deep breath, ready to tell her that I’m through with her, that she can’t stay here, when I hear a loud pounding at my door.

I hold up a finger and then walk to the door in just my briefs, not caring who is on the other side. I throw the door open, and before I can register who is standing there, a fist flies at my face and hits me square in the nose. My body jolts backward with the hit, and I put my hands up to my nose as another hit rains down on my face, followed by another. My nose is pouring blood now, and I’m sure it’s broken. My eyesight is blurry, but I think I make Wade out through the haze. Or, at least, my prior experiences with ex-fiancés verify that he is most likely on the other end of the fist that keeps coming at my face.

“Wade, stop!” Danielle screams, running to my aide.

I hear Wade breathing heavily.

“I’m done. I’m done with both of you. You’re a rotten scumbag who deserves to be locked up in prison. And you’re a lying, cheating slut. I’m done with both of you.”

The blurriness finally leaves my eyes long enough for me to see Wade stumbling out of my room, clearly drunk. It’s a wonder he was even able to aim for my face. The door slams shut, and then I see Danielle standing naked in front of me.

“I’m sorry about Wade. He’s just upset that I broke off the wedding, that I no longer love him. He’ll get over it.”

I walk into the bathroom without saying a word and see that I was right about my nose. It’s most definitely broken as blood pours down my face. I grab one of the towels and hold it up to my nose to try and stop the bleeding, but I know it is going to take a while to stop.

“Here,” Danielle says, holding up a bag of ice.

I take the bag from her and hold it up to my face.

“It stings,” I say, wanting to pull it away from my face.

She laughs. “It will help with the swelling and stop the bleeding.”

I keep it on my face and walk back to the bedroom. Danielle follows me.

“I think you should go,” I say.

“What? Why?”

“I don’t want to worry about Wade coming back and beating me up.”

“He won’t.”

“And I don’t think you and I are going to work out. You’re not worth my trouble.”

Danielle’s jaw drops. “I broke up with Wade for you though. I called off my wedding tomorrow for you. I want to be with you. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“You made a mistake then. You should have stayed with Wade, or you should find someone else. I’m not the man for you, Danielle.”

“He’s not going to take me back now,” she says, her voice shaking.

I smirk. “No, I don’t think he will take you back.”

“You fucking bastard! You asshole!” Danielle shouts, raising her hand to no doubt slap or punch me.

At least, this time, I’m ready for the attack. I grab her wrist midair, stopping her from hitting me.

“You are an evil, vile person,” she says through tears.

I nod. “I am.”

She jerks her hand out of my grasp. “Why would you do this?”

I open my mouth to speak, and she holds a hand up to stop me.

“Never mind. I don’t want to know. I don’t want to spend another second listening to this crap.” She grabs her crumpled dress from the floor and quickly puts it back on, not bothering with her underwear. She cries the whole time.

Occasionally, the women recover after this. They are able to convince their fiancés to take them back. But I don’t think Danielle will. And I’m not sure she is strong enough to fully recover from it either.

She hesitates a second, like she is trying to decide if she should say anything or if I’m going to. When I don’t, she storms out the door without another word.

I take a deep breath as I go over to the bed and lie down, ensuring the ice pack is still on my face.

Shit, I curse to myself when the ice stings my face again.

If I’m going to keep this up, I need to be better prepared. I can’t keep getting hit like this. Next time, I might get a concussion, and then I won’t be able to surf. I won’t let that happen. Next time, I’ll be ready for a hit.

Maybe I should take some boxing classes or something.

I grin. Despite the pain I’m feeling now, I’ll sleep like a baby for the first time in weeks. I stole her heart and then tore it to pieces. It feels good.

Author Bio:

Ella Miles writes sexy romance with strong females that could kick your butt if you piss them off, which they often do to the men that fall for them. She's currently living her own happily ever after near the Rocky Mountains with her high school sweetheart husband. Her heart is also taken by her goofy two year old black lab that is scared of everything, including her own shadow. Ella is the author of the Aligned series. Get a free book by visiting her website. Or by stalking her on Twitter or Facebook.

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Reach for You by Pat Esden blitz

Reach for You
Pat Esden
(The Dark Heart #3)
Published by: Kensington Publishing Corp.
Publication date: June 27th 2017
Genres: New Adult, Paranormal, Romance

Her passion is her greatest weakness.

His legacy is his prison.

To reunite, both must fight the demons within.

A world of deception and danger separates Annie Fremont from her mother—and from Chase, the enigmatic groundskeeper with whom Annie’s fallen in love. But she vows to find her way back to them, before Chase succumbs to the madness that threatens his freedom. The only person who can help is the magical seductress, Lotli, a beautiful, manipulative woman . . . a woman who has disappeared.

Annie must stay strong, even as the future she imagined is slipping away. With the help of family and friends, she discovers that Lotli is being held against her will, by those who want to exploit her powers. But though weakened, Lotli remains a powerful ally and adversary. A bargain is struck. And now Annie’s only chance to rescue Chase could also tear them apart . . .

Loyalties will be tested, walls will be breached, and enemies will be fought, yet Annie’s greatest battle lies within her own heart—to trust her love for Chase to overcome its greatest enemy, and to save those she holds most dear from the terrifying realm of the djinn. For all of their lives depend on it.

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Previous books in the series:

—

CHAPTER ONE:

We journey. Ceaseless and hungry.

Carved into stone tablet. Tenerife, Spain

The campsite was ominously silent. Then a breeze lifted and my ear caught the faint clank and rattle of the bones and knives hanging in the pine trees behind us.

“You don’t think they’re both dead, do you?” Selena whispered.

I scanned the dilapidated camper ahead of us, a do-it-yourself RV created out of an old bread truck. Despite the midafternoon warmth, the doors were shut tight. The tent behind it, barely visible from our angle, bowed under the weight of rain that had pooled in its canopy. There was no campfire smoke. No trampled grass. In comparison to when we’d come here last week, the place looked deserted.

Goose bumps pebbled my skin. I gave the camper another once-over. “Zea was really old and sickly. He could have died—or if the kidnappers came here first looking for Lotli, they could have found him. They might have—”

Selena cut me off with a glower. “You mean, supposed kidnappers.”

My jaw clenched. Yeah, that was exactly what I meant. I understood why my cousin didn’t like that everything we’d discovered pointed to her boyfriend, Newt, being involved in Lotli’s disappearance, and perhaps Zea’s as well. But I thought we’d gotten past that, like a bunch of times already.

I swiveled toward where we’d parked our Land Rover. The Professor stood rooted next to it, a mixture of disgust and apprehension crinkling his face. From his scholarly glasses and sandy brown hair all the way down to his polished loafers, he looked anything but ready for our reconnaissance trip out here on the back roads of Down East Maine. An afternoon of research at Oxford University would have been more appropriate. “You want to check inside the tent while we look in the camper?”

His gaze flicked to the soggy tarps. He cleared his throat, then—as posh as ever—said, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not totally against the idea. But the thought of discovering a rotting corpse is a teensy bit abhorrent.”

“Would you rather discover one in a closed-up camper?” I snapped. It was lucky we’d driven into the campsite from the main road instead of walking like we’d done the last time. I’d assumed the Professor had an adventuresome spirit to go with his young Indiana Jones good looks. Especially since he was an archaeologist, though this summer he was tutoring Selena’s eleven-year-old brother as a favor. Still, and despite how eager he’d seemed to come with us, the Professor had freaked the second we started past the creepy stuff Zea and Lotli hung in the trees to scare people off: the knives and bones, pieces of copper pipe, broken mirrors, and doll parts. Frankly, I was surprised he’d even gotten out of the Land Rover at all.

I pasted on a smile. “Sorry. I don’t much care for the idea myself. Let’s just hope he’s napping or something.”

The Professor wiped his hands down the sides of his chinos. “I truly hope you’re right.”

As he headed for the tent, I tramped toward the camper with Selena close behind. If only Chase were here now. The creepy stuff hadn’t bothered him at all, and the fear of Zea being dead would have only driven him forward faster.

My chest tightened, my longing for Chase aching inside me, raw and unrelenting. If it weren’t for me, he would be here now. Instead, both he and my mother were trapped in the djinn realm, prisoners of his father, Malphic. If it weren’t for me, Lotli wouldn’t be missing either.

“Well?” Selena jerked her head at the camper door. “Are you going to just stand there?”

I raised my hand and knocked. One second passed. Two seconds. I rapped harder. Nothing. I tried the doorknob. It turned beneath my grip. I opened the door a crack, hesitated, and took a deep breath before pushing it open all the way.

A wave of hot, musty air rushed past me as if the camper had been closed up for days.

“Hello?” I said, sticking my head inside. I gave the air a cautious sniff. No dangerous odors, like a leaky gas stove, permeated the air. No rotting-trash smell—or decomp.

Selena nudged my shoulder. “What are you waiting for?”

I swallowed hard and stepped forward.

The place was cramped, a gypsy wagon on steroids. Tassels and prisms curtained the windows, letting only faint streaks of light inside. Miles of fuchsia and turquoise fabric draped the ceiling and walls. Animal skulls, feathers, and nubby candles clustered inside miniature altars. The fridge, table, and chairs, every surface that wasn’t fabric covered, was painted purple or black. Stars decorated the ceiling. An antique bed piled with crimson quilts and an avalanche of pillows took up the camper’s entire backend. It was cozy enough, I supposed. But I couldn’t begin to imagine what life had been like for Lotli, apprenticed to Zea as a child because of her magic abilities, essentially indentured. Not that I thought a devout shaman like Zea would have been cruel to her. It was just so different from anything I’d experienced.

“Zea, are you here?” I called out. “We need to talk to you about Lotli.”

I minced my way deeper into the cramped space, working my way toward the back of the camper. Cold sweat carved a trail down my spine. I crept past a tiny kitchen and dining nook, then the bathroom—one toothbrush in the holder, a washcloth draped over the edge of a yellowed sink.

I returned to the front of the camper and pulled aside the curtain that divided the living area from the bread truck’s cab. Seats for the driver and a passenger, seashells glued to the dash, insulated coffee cups in the holders—

Something brushed the back of my neck.

I yelped and jumped sideways, whipping around to see what it was and smacking my elbow against the wall. Pain zinged up my arm. I glared at Selena, standing barely an inch behind me.

“Shit,” I said, rubbing the sting from my arm. “You scared the hell out of me.”

She gave me a sheepish pout. “Sorry. I thought you knew I was there.”

“I didn’t think you were that close.” It wouldn’t have hurt half as bad, except I was already sore and bruised from being thrown out of the djinn realm earlier in the day.

Her pout transformed into a smug smile and she flipped her blond hair over one shoulder. “Looks to me like Zea and Lotli might have pulled a vanishing act after all. Huh?”

I stopped rubbing. “Or the Professor’s about to find something disgusting in the tent.”

“Want to bet?”

I closed my eyes, struggling to regain my composure. We couldn’t afford to waste time discussing the same thing over and over again, any more than I could have afforded the luxury of staying home to nurse my aches and pains. Chase and Mother were in danger. And I couldn’t go back to the realm and rescue them until we found Lotli. Without her and her flute-magic, it would be too risky, perhaps even impossible to enter or escape from the realm.

I shoved past Selena and strode to the tiny bathroom. “While we’re here, we should find something personal of Lotli’s that you can use to scry and see where they’re holding her.”

Glancing around, I spotted a scruffy hairbrush. You couldn’t get much more personal than that. I grabbed it and brandished it toward Selena.

She stood just inside the bathroom doorway, hands on her hips, eyes narrowed. “Cut it out, Annie, I’ve had enough of you talking like Newt kidnapped Lotli, the innuendos and little jabs. Maybe his family’s hiding something, but Newt doesn’t have anything to do with it. So quit acting like he’s evil, okay?”

I mirrored her stance. “He told you his dad was a stockbroker, that they owned their summer home. Those were lies. His brother is a registered creep. No matter what you want to think: Newt’s not innocent.”

She turned her back on me, her voice bordering on hysteria. “I don’t know why I bothered coming. You’re so, so . . . You always have to be right—” Her voice died and she slowly faced me. Angry red blotches mottled her face. But tears rimmed her eyes.

My anger drained. She didn’t look pissed. She was trembling like she was about to fall apart. Earlier today, when we’d first heard about the lies Newt and his family had been telling, I’d seen something in Selena’s eyes, something beneath her disbelief.

“What is it? Tell me,” I asked gently.

She raked her hands over her face. “Nothing. You just need to trust me. I know Newt couldn’t be involved. And he wouldn’t have let his brother do it either.”

I leveled my gaze with hers and toughened my voice. “What makes you so certain? Tell me the truth, Selena.”

Her chin quivered. “I just know.”

Tucking the hairbrush handle first into my hip pocket, I stepped closer. I pushed her hair back from her face. “You’re my cousin. Please. Tell me.”

“Nothing. He just wouldn’t do it. He loves me.”

“I get that. But—”

She shoved my hand away. “No, you don’t get it. I know he loves me. Like forever.” Her eyes pleaded for me to understand what she couldn’t bring herself to say.

A possibility seeped into my head. My hands went to my mouth, covering a horrified gasp. She couldn’t mean. She couldn’t have. “What did you do?”

“I kind of—I put a . . .” Her voice faded and she looked down at the floor.

“A spell?” A month ago, the idea of witchcraft being involved would never have occurred to me. Now it seemed more than likely.

“You can’t tell anyone. Mom, Dad, Grandfather—they’d kill me.” She curled her arms over her head, her shoulders shaking as she crumpled down against the wall.

I crouched and put my arms around her. “Whatever it is, it’ll be fine. It can’t be that bad.”

“It is,” she sobbed.

Author Bio:

PAT ESDEN would love to say she spent her childhood in intellectual pursuits. The truth is she was fonder of exploring abandoned houses and old cemeteries. When not out on her own adventures, she can be found in her northern Vermont home writing stories about brave, smart women and the men who capture their hearts. An antique-dealing florist by trade, she’s also a member of Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers of America, Romance Writers of America, and the League of Vermont Writers. Her short stories have appeared in a number of publications, including Orson Scott Card’s Intergalactic Medicine Show, the Mythopoeic Society’s Mythic Circle literary magazine, and George H. Scither’s anthology Cat Tales.

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trailer reveal for: The Kingdom Saga Collection: Books 1-4 by Megan Linski

Gravestones and Wicked Bones by D.D. Miers and B. Crow

Gravestones and Wicked Bones

Shadow Creatures

Book One

D.D. Miers and B. Crow

Genre: Urban Fantasy

Publisher: D.D. Miers and B. Crow

Date of Publication: June 13th 2017

Number of pages: 175

Word Count: 40,000

Cover Artist: Fantasy Book Design

Book Description:

Half Fae. Half Demon. 100% Badass Bitch.

My sisters and I weren’t born with magic. No, we were forced into it. Betrayed into it by the one person who was supposed to protect us. Now we’re living in a shithole desert town at the mercy of a sexy-as-hell Fae named Bastian.

So far, I’ve been able to buy Violet and Jade time to live freely, without being held to Bastian’s constant call. I’ve been doing his dirty work for five long years, but my sisters’ freedom is wearing thin. Soon he’ll summon them, just as he did me—and I can’t let that happen.

Bastian’s latest assignment offers an escape for my sisters, and I’d be a fool not to take it. But my target is more powerful than any man I’ve faced before, and doubly seductive. He draws out my inner demons—literally—and evading this attraction might prove more difficult than finishing what I started.

The first book in a New Series by Award-Winning Urban Fantasy & Paranormal Romance Author D.D. Miers & B. Crow. Perfect for fans of Mercy Thompson, Jane Yellowrock and Alex Craft!

About the Authors:

D.D. Miers is an ardent book lover, coffee enthusiast, and die-hard romance fan. When she's not writing, she can be found snuggling on the couch with a good book in hand, planning a Harry Potter themed party, or dancing very badly to music. She currently resides in beautiful Southern California with her wonderful husband, a crazy toddler, and the many different characters in her head.

Website: https://www.ddmiers.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/authorddmiers   

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/D.D.Miers/  

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorddmiers/

Google Plus: https://plus.google.com/+DDMiersAuthor

Follow on Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/d-d-miers

Follow on Amazon: http://amzn.to/2rdaFdQ

B Crow has held multiple positions, but now manages the best one--Mommy. 


When she isn't wrangling in her three monsters, she is creating worlds of magical mayhem, romance, and paranormal activity. 


After years of ghostwriting bestsellers, she's decided to pursue her true calling and step into the limelight, hoping to share a little of her magic with the world.

http://www.authorbcrow.com/books.html

https://www.facebook.com/authorb.crow.1

Angels to the Rescue: Inspirational Real-Life Stories from an ER Doctor by Robert D. Lesslie

Whether you know a first responder or medical professional or not this book will give you a deep insight into what they do to earn a paycheck. Not just that though but the things they do to save a life. you also learn about their feelings, how they cope to get through the day. But mostly you get to read some of the coolest stories of how not only they help people but some of the ways they survived some terrible and dangerous situations. After reading this book you will not only have a better understanding of how these people put their lives on the line daily but you will also have a new found respect for them. Some of these stories are so incredible only God himself could of been watching over everyone involved.

Book Tour "The Watcher" by Eli Carros

About the Book

Title: The Watcher

Author: Eli Carros

Genre: Crime Thriller

One man must stop a psychopath in his tracks…

Chief Inspector Jack Grayson is hunting a serial killer terrorizing London, a stalker who watches his prey carefully and displays the bodies of his young female victims brazenly. But Grayson has a problem – only one lead and scant evidence – and the body count is rising.

He discovers that an unsolved 18-year-old murder case bears all the hallmarks of the current killings, but he still can’t seem to find a single, obvious suspect, and he is so far unable to outthink a master predator. 

Grayson must catch a hunter who knows how to outwit the police – a showman intent on completing his macabre collection. But he’s missing a vital clue, a critical piece of the puzzle.  When he finally discovers the killer's identity, he's completely unprepared for the fallout…

Author Bio

I'm a crime fiction and thriller author from London, England and my debut novel, The Watcher, was inspired by London, and by what can happen when sexual obsession, violence, emotional neglect, and madness collide.  It takes you behind the eyes of a murderous stalker with a secret past, and into the mind of the harried detective who must stop a master predator before he kills again.

I'm a trained journalist, and interned at The Daily Mirror before becoming copywriter and then a crime novelist.  I've always loved reading crime, thrillers, and mystery suspense, and am an ardent admirer of authors Steven King, Mark Billingham, Harlan Coben, and Patricia Cornwell.

I'm naturally a strong supporter of causes that promote equality for all.  In my spare time I love sailing, camping, hiking, and sketching faces, and detest getting up in the morning without several cups of strong percolated coffee.

Links

Website: http://www.elicarros.com/

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/elicarrosauthor

Book Excerpts

Excerpt One

She didn’t know he was about to kill her of course. He stepped soundlessly behind the blonde, between chrome-coated elevator doors, his shoes gliding over polished grey marble. As she turned to the control panel to select her destination with a well-manicured fingernail, he craned his neck forward to inhale her scent. The sweet musky aroma curled around his nostrils pleasantly. It was familiar to him. It reminded him of her. Anya.

She stood waiting as the doors closed with a quiet hiss and the elevator started to descend. He glanced over her, taking in her elegant profile, her smooth alabaster skin, observing the details of her; breasts round and full, encased in a white shirt half a size too small and straining at the buttons, begging to be released. He noted the way her hair piled upon the top of her head, loose tendrils of spun gold escaping and caressing a slim neck. A hair pin edging its way out of the bun, aching to be plucked.

It’s an abomination, unnatural. His mother’s voice in his head again. Would she never shut up?

Fingering the knife in his pocket as the elevator descended, he felt the sharp edge grate the pad of his finger. He clenched his fists, feeling the rage building inside him. How dare this girl taunt him so? The calm of the Brahms sonata being piped through to the elevator’s occupants came in sharp contrast to his raggedly spiking mood. The feeling, rising within him, was irrepressible. The urgency to possess her climbed rapidly, like his blood pressure.

Unaware of his watchfulness, she fumbled around in the depths of her handbag, trying to locate something. The tilt of her lovely face tipped downwards in profile, making him catch his breath. Boldly he stepped forward, pulling the blade out of his pocket and placing one arm around her throat as he came up behind her, restraining her tightly against him. He didn’t hesitate as he drew the blade deftly across the thin skin of her throat, slicing her neck.

The blood spurted violently as the blade bit into her jugular vein, spraying the shiny, mirrored walls. The piped sonata seemed to be slowing down and he felt as if the world had momentarily stopped. Blanched, devoid of colour. The only bright spots – the only things that existed at all – were her and him, and they existed in a lurid blur of light. He held her there, his head bent over her tumble of blonde hair, as she struggled pathetically in his arms, her body weakening with every kick.

He watched as she gasped her last, her mouth opening obscenely, as her fingers scratched at empty air. Drinking her in, he tried to memorise every atom of her, as her body became deadweight in his arms. Finally, in that last second, he felt the serenity that inevitably washed over him each time. A feeling of satisfaction. Of completion. Peace.