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Friday, August 29, 2014

@whitesouljamma #SovereignPlague #ReleaseDayBlitz 18+ ADVISORY #Giveaway

Title: Sovereign Plague
Author: Rachel A Olson
Genre: Post-Apocalyptic PNR 18+
Release Date: August 29, 2014
Blitz Host: Lady Amber's Tours

***ADVISORY: CONTAINS CONTENT UNSUITABLE FOR READERS UNDER 18 YEARS OF AGE.***

In the year 3127, the human race faces possible extinction when a viral outbreak spreads like wildfire during a never ending cold spell. Former militia member Barrick Hardison has been forced to use his training for survival before, and finds himself doing it again…but this time for a woman he hardly even knows. 

Lyza Guerrera has spent her entire life trying to hide in the shadows. It didn’t do her any good. An orphan from the former Puerto Rico region, Lyza’s foreign looks simply attract danger, including Barrick. Fortunately for her, Barrick doesn’t seem to have any interest in her, or anyone else for that matter.

After meeting under extreme circumstances, Barrick begrudgingly allows Lyza to tag along with him. Threatening his former employer and witnessing a near upheaval of his old militia camp has given Barrick the realization that circumstances are not only worse than he thought, but he and Lyza are stuck in the middle of it all.

When it seems like their situation can’t possibly get worse, the strength of the Defects seems to be growing with numbers, and Barrick’s sanity begins to waver amidst it all. Will he get Lyza and her precious cargo to safety or will his uncontrollable feelings and impending psychosis prevent him from reaching their much needed destination?

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EXCERPT
Barrick kneeled down next to Lyza, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward him. “Get on my shoulders.”

“What?” Lyza almost laughed in disbelief. “I’m a grown woman. A pregnant grown woman. You don’t honestly think you’re going to give me a ride on your shoulders, do you?” Barrick yanked on her hand again before forcing her leg to swing up and over his shoulder.

“Either you get on or you run. Based on the lack of color in your face and the shit you just barfed all over the floor, I think it’s safe to say you’re in no condition to run right now. So, get on.” Barrick was in no mood for games, and Lyza obviously heard it in his voice. He was sure she knew exactly why the sirens had gone off, but it apparently mattered to her what it would look like to be flying around the militia camp, perched atop Barrick’s shoulders like a toddler. Barrick smirked to himself. He was more enjoying the thought of which body part would be closest to his head while she played toddler.

“I’m a seriously dirty minded fuck,” he mumbled to himself.

“What was that?” Lyza asked, clinging as best she could to Barrick as he rose effortlessly to his feet.

“Nothing, doll,” he responded with a clearing of his throat. “Hold on tight.”



AUTHOR BIO
Somewhere amidst her forty-hour job and playtime with her son, Rachel finds time to walk the streets of worlds only existing on manmade paper. She resides in small college town Northwestern Nebraska with her son, just a few blocks away from her parents. She enjoys socializing with adults, sipping sweetened iced tea, and head banging to music that doesn't carry a beat worth the effort of rock star hair slinging.



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Sunday, August 24, 2014

Serial Killer Quarterly - "A compelling read...by some of the best writers working in the field."


SKQ_Vol1No2_Cover-1800x2700Serial Killer Quarterly, "21st Century Psychos" by Cathy Scott, Katherine Ramsland, Carol Anne Davis, Kim Cresswell, Robert J Hoshowsky, Curtis Yateman, Aaron Elliott, Anthony Servante and Lee Mellor

Bestselling author Cathy Scott guides the reader through the fog choked alleyways of Edinburgh where Irishmen William Burke and William Hare fatally suffocated up to 25 people in 1828.

Our second feature by Dr. Katherine Ramsland focuses on Houston's wicked "Candy Man" Dean Corll - one of the most sadistic murderers in 20th century criminal history.

Feature number three takes us back to the United Kingdom as Carol Anne Davis explores whether both John Duffy and David Mulcahy were truly the "Railway Killers".

Kim Cresswell relays the perverse folie a deux of Doug Clark and Carol Bundy whose rampage began in 1980 on LA's sunset strip.

Robert Hoshowsky and Curtis Yateman write of confinement and torture in their pieces on Leonard Lake and Charles Ng and "Ken and Barbie Killers" Paul Bernardo and Karla Homolka.

Lastly, Aaron Elliott takes a look at a rare female-female serial killer duo, LA's Helen Golay and Olga Rutterschmidt, who drugged and ran over two men with their car in order to collect on their life insurance policies.

Also includes, Anthony Servante's analysis of poems by the Zodiac Killer, Joseph Kallinger, and Israel Keyes, and a review of the film 'Natural Born Killers'.

Available in stunning magazine-style at Serial Killer Quarterly or e-Book Amazon Kobo Barnes & Noble iTunes Google Play

Saturday, August 23, 2014

Soulless Release Day Blitz @AmberGarr1

Title: Soulless
Author: Amber Garr
Genre: Young Adult Paranormal 
Expected Release Date: August 23, 2014 
Publisher: Hallowed Ink Press


When it comes to death and love…only one is guaranteed.

Four decades ago Nora died. A tragic event for someone so young; however, four decades ago Nora was also given a second chance to walk among the living. A Death Warden with a mysterious past, her job is to escort the newly expired towards the light, battling with the Soul Hunters who want the freshly dead to help with their own evil purposes buried in the dark.

When Nora’s charges suddenly become targets, she realizes that the hunters are after far more than just souls. A shift in power between good and evil threatens to change everything, risking the lives of the only family Nora has ever known.

Devastated and angry, she’s forced to face the man she once loved - a man who chose darkness over her - in order to find the answers she needs to stop the horror from escalating. Yet, while a lost relationship still haunts her broken heart, a new Warden with secrets of his own will enter the mix and quickly alter everything Nora believed to be true. 

Death is unavoidable…but sometimes, so is love.


Amber Garr spends her days as a scientist and nights writing about other worlds. Her childhood imaginary friend was a witch, Halloween is sacred, and she is certain she has a supernatural sense of smell. Amber is a multiple Royal Palm Literary Award winner, author of the bestselling The Syrenka Series, The Leila Marx Novels, The Water Crisis Chronicles, and the upcoming Death Warden Series. When not obsessing over the unknown, she can be found dancing, reading, or enjoying a good movie. Find out more at www.ambergarr.com.


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Thursday, August 21, 2014

@SuzyKnightbooks #RulesOfAscension #BlogTour #Giveaway


Rules Of Ascension
By Suzy Knight

As a child, Lady Elsabeth Durnfir dreamed of marrying a prince, but after seeing her elder sister’s personality make a complete 180 degree turn after her engagement to Crown Prince Henry of Estoria is announced, Elsabeth has traded in her childish hopes of a fairytale wedding for the equally unlikely hope of inheriting Durnfir Manor and the surrounding land.

Life at court is not something she is interested in, or good at, but in order to help prepare for her sister Alicia’s wedding, Elsabeth must live at court for an entire year. As well as trying to fit in at court while living up to her sister’s reputation, Elsabeth has a secret to keep. But, court is full of secrets that are all about to come to light.

How will Elsabeth survive court without destroying her family’s reputation—and how can she get Prince Frederick, the renowned rake, to stop teasing her?




Available for purchase at 

   


Excerpt


The high table had never been so full. The king and queen sat in the center, as always, with Georgiana on the queen’s left and Henry on the king’s right. However, Alicia was in Frederick’s normal place at Henry’s side, leaving Frederick no choice but to sit between Elsabeth and Georgiana, not willing to subject one as innocent as Elsabeth to Georgiana’s stern gaze of disapproval.

Food was served within moments of him sitting down; the kitchen had pulled out all the stops tonight. Frederick watched as his plate became laden with thick cuts of roast beef; golden, crispy potatoes, and thick gravy. The servants knew his habits well, giving him only the smallest helping of greens but loading him with still-warm rolls of bread and the thickest of the beef slices they had.

Not long after Frederick demolished his first roll, the king called for a toast to the happy couple. This was a precedent that would set the theme for the evening, for every few minutes there was yet another toast. Frederick sipped at his wine, sometimes only pretending to drink, knowing the evening meal was going to be long the toasts were not likely to stop, and he hadn’t quite recovered his head from the night before. However, after the fourth or fifth toast, he noticed Elsabeth swaying a little in her chair as a servant dashed forward to refill her wine goblet. The flush in her cheeks confirmed his suspicions as another lord stood to toast the couple. The prince leaned in to Elsabeth and whispered in her ear. “Pace yourself, sip the wine or simply pretend to drink. If you get too drunk, you’ll fall out of your chair, and then what would Lissy say?”

Elsabeth hiccupped, her big blue eyes staring at him from under her dark, long lashes. Seeming to have to concentrate on her motions, she nodded and put the cup down, glaring at it suspiciously. A smile tugged at the prince’s lips as he watched her frowning at her cup as though the cup itself were to blame for her inebriation.

Georgiana leaned past Frederick to glower at the young woman. “Is she drunk?” she hissed, eyebrows knitted tightly with judgment. Frederick felt that same knot in his stomach that he had felt earlier when Elsabeth had floundered under the queen’s questioning. It was almost a protective feeling, which didn’t make sense, as he didn’t know her at all. Besides, I never go after innocents—I only ever pursue women who understand that I’m not promising anything.

Nonetheless, he turned in his chair and rested his chin on his hand, careful to position his elbow quite obviously on the table, blocking Georgiana’s view. His distraction worked. “Get your elbow off of the table at once! Are you a heathen?” Georgiana’s whisper could cleave wood, the tone was so sharp. With a flash, she hit Frederick’s elbow with the bottom of her fork, causing him to curse and rub at the offending body part.

“Jeez, Georgiana. Is there really a need to turn to violence?”

“It’s all you men seem to understand.” She sniffed and turned away, focusing on her own meal once more.

New to the castle, the servants played it safe by putting a little of everything on Elsabeth’s plate. But, Frederick noticed her request second helpings of everything except the gravy. If the way she gazed longingly at the steaming tureen was anything to go by, he suspected her refusal of the gravy was in accordance with her wish to lessen the chance of spilling on herself.

Frederick sighed and sat back in his chair, watching Elsabeth play with the food on her plate. He felt himself smiling again as he watched her keep dropping her potatoes, her coordination suffering greatly from the amount of alcohol she consumed. There was something endearing about her, but it’s not like he could bed his future sister-in-law to get her out of his system.

“Will you tell me something?” he asked, leaning forward to take her fork from her slack grip. She pouted at him, following the fork with her gaze.

“Sure,” she mumbled, watching as he speared a golden potato and waved it tauntingly before her.

“Why were you so floundered by my mother’s question? Surely there are things you enjoy doing?”

“Of course,” sighed Elsabeth, gaze still focused on the potato he held out. “But I promised Alicia I wouldn't tell about the embroidery and nothing else I do is very ladylike.”

“What do you mean by ‘not very ladylike’?” He fed her the potato and speared another.

“Well, I teach the village children to read, and in return they teach me dancing. Alicia says I shouldn’t dance like a commoner. I like to walk through the gardens while the dew is fresh, but it ruins my dresses. I don’t much care for fashion, but I like sewing.” She opened her mouth patiently, expecting a reward for her answer. He obliged, holding out the second potato. Spearing a third, he twirled it while he contemplated his next question.

“Why can’t you tell anyone about your embroidery? That’s a very ladylike hobby. You must have seen how much my mother enjoyed the piece Lady Alicia made.”

Elsabeth shook her head and wobbled slightly in the chair. “I have a secret. Lissy made me promise.”

“I won’t tell anyone, I promise,” he whispered, leaning closer and teasing her with the potato, touching it to her lips and pulling it away before she could bite. A swipe of her tongue across her lips almost made him forget why he was trying to get information.

With a moan, Elsabeth nodded. “Okay, but you can’t tell anyone! Lissy can’t sew at all, so I can’t tell anyone that I can, or they might notice that my work is identical to the work that Lissy claimed as her own.” With a triumphant grin, she leaned forward and snatched the bite of potato, chewing happily.

Frederick sat back in his chair, watching Elsabeth as she reclaimed her fork and enthusiastically attacked her vegetables. Why would Alicia lie about that? It’s not as though Henry would care if she were able to sew or not. Yet she made her sister promise to keep it a secret? Frederick didn’t think Elsabeth was lying, but it gave him something to think about. He knew how the court worked, a skill with embroidery got you close to the queen—could Alicia have planned it all in order to get herself close to Henry? He shook his head clear of such thoughts. Henry is cautious, and Georgiana is like a hawk. There’s no way anyone would be able to trick their way into the royal family.

He focused on Elsabeth once more, smiling as he watched her eating with such exuberance. She seemed completely at ease, now that her inhibitions had melted away. It was hard not to laugh at her disastrous attempts to feed herself, her coordination having suffered greatly, but he didn't think he could feed her again. Not if she was going to moan in pleasure with every bite.

When the meal was finished, it was time to dance. Queen Charlotte and King George followed Lady Alicia and Crown Prince Henry out onto the floor. Georgiana had disappeared again, which left Elsabeth with Frederick. He helped her out of her chair, trying not to let others notice how heavily she leaned on him. At least she isn't tripping over her dress anymore. The music started before they reached the floor, where the tables had been pushed aside to make a dancing area. Other couples joined the royal family, giving Frederick the chance to pull her in closer than was appropriate. Only because I need to be able to hold her upright, that’s all there is to it, he told himself, ignoring the curious glance Henry shot across the room.

Their fingers were entwined and his other hand rested on her lower back, his thumb gently rubbing small patterns. He was careful to move slowly and not to turn her too often, but he couldn't help the grin that spread across his face as he watched her bite her lip in concentration. “Are you doubting me again, Ellie?” he whispered, making her head snap up. She glared at him.

“My name is Elsabeth. And I've never once doubted you, so there.” She stuck her tongue out at him, and he struggled to quiet his laughter. He tugged her closer so her hips were pressed against his.

“I’m sorry, Elsabeth, I’m glad to be thought of so highly by such a discerning young lady.” She shivered and looked up, her eyelids fluttering with the effort to keep them open.

“Are you teasing me?” she said, her head tilted to one side like a curious puppy.

He smiled, his gaze locking with hers. “Never.”


About The Author

Suzy Knight is an average English girl, who after completing a degree in boring business management decided to travel halfway around the world to the land of kpop and kimchi to be a teacher.
 
Whilst in Korea, Suzy rediscovered her passion for writing and managed to write the novel Love and War in between working at her academy and volunteering with animal rescue. Two years later and she’s back in England with her rescued Korean puppy, Panda.
 
Now she is working on her next novels, while training Panda to be less nervous. 
You can find Suzy at 
         

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Monday, August 18, 2014

@taralain #OutingTheQuarterback #CoverReveal


Outing The Quarterback
(Long Pass Chronicles Series, Bk #1)
By Tara Lain

Will Ashford lives in two closets. He meets his wealthy father’s goals as both the quarterback for the famous SCU football team and a business major, but secretly he attends art school and longs to live as a painter. And he's gay. But if he can win the coveted Milton Scholarship for art, he’ll be able to break from his father at the end of his senior year.

In a painting master class, Will meets his divergent opposite, Noah Zajack. A scarred orphan who’s slept on park benches and eaten from trash cans, Noah carefully plans his life and multiple jobs so he has money and time to go to art school. Will's problems seem like nothing compared to Noah's. Noah wants the scholarship too and may have a way to get it since the teacher of his class has designs on him, a plan Will isn't happy about.

When a gossipmonger with a popular YouTube channel finds evidence that Will is gay, the quarterback’s closet doors begin to crumble. Hounded by the press and harassed by other players, Will has to choose. Stay in the closet and keep his family’s wealth, or let the doors fall off and walk out with nothing. Nothing but Noah.

Release Date: 
September 19, 2014




You can pre-order your copy at



Excerpt
Will’s eyes moved past the teacher. Lots of easels, students already working, supplies all over the place and—holy shit.
The artist’s model sat naked on a small platform in the middle of the room. But not just no-clothes-on naked. We were talking gleaming, pale beige skin, shining hair, and hard-as-stone butt-cheeks naked.
Will’s deprived cock did a happy dance.
The model’s back—read, bare ass—faced Will while his graceful spine curved away.
The beast in Will’s pants started to grow.
The guy’s long brown hair flowed over his shoulders and outlined his profile, perfectly presented to Will’s artist eye. High-bridged nose, prominent cheekbones, pointed chin.
The damned traitor prick pushed so hard against Will’s zipper he probably had teeth marks on his cockhead. Why was it every time he decided to go straight, some cosmic joker had to twiddle his fucking finger and prove beyond a shadow that William Elliott Ashford III was as gay as a circus tent? Shit!
“Are you in this class?”
Will focused his eyes back on Masterson and clasped his hands in front of his crotch, still holding his tackle box. “Yes, sir. Sorry I’m late. Traffic.”
Masterson glanced at Will’s folded hands and sucked on his cheek like he was trying not to laugh. “Name?”
Will shifted to get the animal to go back in its cave, but no matter how hard Masterson stared at Will, the model still sat there in all his fucking glory. “Will Smith, sir.”
Masterson glanced at a paper on his desk, made a check mark, and pointed toward an empty easel with a folding table beside it and a rickety chair. “There’s a place in the back, William.”
“Will.”
The man smiled and the lean, almost harsh face softened. “Will. Made any good movies lately?”
Oh my, so very original. Will smiled. “Yeah.”
Masterson waved his hand toward the easel and looked at the model. “You can move, Noah.”
Will walked back to the empty place. Do not stare at that guy. Don’t stare. His name is Noah. Noah.
Weird. Usually life models were “interesting” looking, for lack of a better word. Fat or craggy, old, and character-filled. Not perfect, smooth beauties like this guy.
Will set his tackle box on the floor, opened it, and pulled out brushes. Masterson walked up beside him with a canvas. “This is gessoed already so you won’t have to waste any time.”
Will set it on the easel. “Thanks.”
Masterson crossed his arms. “I’ve seen the work you submitted when you applied for the master class. Promising.”
Wow. Music to his ears. “Thank you, sir.”
Masterson grinned. Who knew dimples could live in cheeks that thin? “Try Dwight so I don’t feel so old.”
Will smiled. “Thanks, Dwight. I wouldn’t want to suggest something that’s not true.”
The instructor winked at him and walked back to the beat-up desk in the corner. Winked. Will had read that Masterson was gay. Had the teacher just been flirting with him? Or shit, maybe he’d been coming on to Masterson. When you spent your life in the closet, every interaction was a fucking minefield.
Will sat in the chair and looked up at the model. His breath caught. No way. The beautiful guy had repositioned himself and now sat facing Will, his legs crossed, leaning forward with his arm resting on his thigh. Everything shimmery and perfect—if you didn’t count the six-inch scar that ran from the right corner of his mouth up to the edge of his very blue eye. It skipped the eye miraculously and continued above it on his forehead, disappearing into his hair. The puckered skin pulled that eye closed a slight bit more than the other. Funny. Without it, the kid would have looked almost too angelic. As it was, the eye gave him a permanent touch of cynicism. Yeah, anybody who’d picked up that badge of courage in his life deserved to be a cynic.





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


You can find Tara at
               





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