BOOK BLITZ ~ EMBLAZED ~ BY CONNIE L. SMITH

BLURB

 

After all the preparations, Nicholai’s warriors stand on the threshold of warfare, the demons entering the realm in battalions and the world unknowingly depending on the army’s success to continue intact. But the battle is only the beginning of deadly struggles, and the soldiers will soon realize how little they know, how many things are at stake, and how much they have to lose.

 

Love, hate, hope, despair, anguish, joy… The journey is a gauntlet of emotion and combat, threatening their resolve as much as their lives.

 

Will their training and ties be enough, or will the complications and the forthcoming evil forever cripple the world’s last hope of survival?



EXCERPT

 

AJ sensed him there, standing wordlessly some feet in the distance, just like she always recognized his presence when he lingered near. She absorbed the comfort and happiness he brought her – not that she’d admit that out loud – before sighing and speaking. “It’s called making a bed, Julius. It’s pretty commonplace.”

He didn’t push away from the doorframe, instead leaning further against it while he continued to observe her. “Sweetheart, nothing’s commonplace when you do it.”

Hearing the grin and affection in his voice, she smiled, peeking at him over her shoulder. “Is that a compliment or an insult?”

He gazed upward to stare at the ceiling with a thoughtful expression, then returned his attention to her, his shrug carefree. “Both.”

She smirked. “Sweet talker.”

“Odd ball.” He finally moved from the threshold, unhurriedly advancing toward her. “You know, most people make their beds in the morning. Not ten o’clock at night.”

She snorted. “Yeah. I’m gonna make my bed as soon as I roll out of it at six AM. I wouldn’t be making it now if I didn’t have to wrestle the sheet back on four times a night.” Finally setting her pillow in its position, she turned to him with an unashamed grin.

He chuckled, his adoration plain, and brushed a lock of hair from her face. “You’re one of a kind, you know that?”

“Compliment or insult?” she teased again.

“Compliment.” He smiled, cupping her cheek. “Definitely a compliment.”

“Sweet talker,” she repeated, standing on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. Wrapping her arms around his neck, his circling her waist, she dove into the moment, reveling in the wonderful sensations only Julius incited. Safety. Warmth. Passion. So many more she couldn’t quite put a name to, the combination too heady and consuming to adequately decipher. It was simply a Julius effect, and its wonder had no equal in her life. Gradually breaking away, she knowingly lifted an eyebrow. “You didn’t come here just to make fun of me over my bed-making habits.”

“Maybe I came up here just to kiss you.”

“If that were the case, dear Julius, you wouldn’t have waited until I kissed you.”

Narrowing his eyes, he barely restrained his smirk at her forwardness and how well she’d grown to understand him in their time together. “You have a point.” He stepped back from her embrace, grasping her hand in his. “Come on. We have a mission.”

 

 

CLICK FOR ESSENCE (FREE)

 

 

 Essenced (book one) is scheduled to be free from February 24^th-28^th, and Connie is planning to offer a giveaway for each of the five days of this blog tour on Twitter.

 

 

 

 YOU CAN FIND CONNIE HERE!

Blog/Main Site: http://clsmithbooks.blogspot.com/

 

Twitter: https://twitter.com/CLSmithBooks

 

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/conniel0194/

 

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

 

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7257320.Connie_L_Smith

 

 

 

NIGHT ANGEL ~ BY ANNETTE MILLER

My good friend, Annette Miller has a new release. Night Angel was released by The Wild Rose Press. I hope you take a minute to check it out. Annette is awesome!

One bad relationship and too many super-villain battles send Karen Spraiker, AKA Sterling Dragon, to upstate New York for a murder mystery weekend. The last thing she expects is a real mystery and a man with magical eyes who causes her blood to race the moment they meet. 

Randall Dupre has left his clan to aid the northeast werewolf pack in finding their kidnapped children. When he meets Karen, he knows she's the one destined for him. But will she feel the same after seeing what he becomes when the sun goes down?


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BOOK BLITZ & GIVEAWAY~ AUTHOR LAURA KAYE

Welcome my guest, Laura Kaye. She has fabulous news, so let's get to it.

It’s release day! And I’m so excited to share Hard As You Can, the second book in the Hard Ink series, with all of you here today! Hard As You Can follows the surviving members of a disgraced Army Special Forces team as they fight to regain their stolen honor, and finds their investigation crossing paths with a waitress willing to do whatever it takes to stay alive and protect her younger sister. For Shane McCallan, saving Crystal Dean is a mission he refuses to turn down.

 

Today, I’ve got a super sexy scene to share with you, one that was a total surprise to me as I was writing it! I hope you enjoy this peek at the first time Shane and Crystal find themselves alone with each other:

 

“Do you like to dance, Crystal?” Shane asked in a low voice.

 

“Uh, what? Why?”

 

His smile was crooked, playful. “ Cause dancing’s something people do when they’re getting to know each other.”

 

“Really?” Maybe where he was from. Then again, she worked in a strip club. Dancing was something people did to make money. So, okay, maybe her view of dancing was a bit jaded.

 

“Absolutely. Ask anybody.” The song faded away, followed by the announcement of a Southern rock station’s call sign. A new song started, and Shane turned to her with a smile. “Dance with me.”

 

Crystal peered up at him without the slightest idea how to respond. Because her body was saying hell, yes!, while her brain was screaming bad idea, really, really bad idea.

 

He stepped closer, arms raised, expression full of all kinds of invitation.

 

The next thing she knew, her right hand was in his and her left had slipped around his neck. Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod, ran over and over in her mind. What am I doing? But then he tucked her hand against his chest and tugged her against him with the hand that settled at her lower back. And the closeness stole her breath.

 

He moved them to the beat of the song, a slow, sexy, bluesy number she didn’t know but would never forget. Some songs carried memories like the images were imprinted upon the very lyrics themselves, and she had no doubt this would be one of them.

 

All of a sudden, the air in the room felt ten degrees warmer. As they swayed to the beat, Shane’s body pressed against hers from thighs to chest. With every step and move and turn, Crystal’s breasts rubbed against the hard plane of his chest. Strong hands held and guided her body, making her want to feel them explore her everywhere. Arousal rose like a waking dragon inside her. Cautious. Curious. Dangerous.

 

This was wrong and stupid on so many levels. But, scary as it was, it felt so freaking good that she couldn’t force herself to pull away. One song. It’s just a dance. Just a dance just a dance just a dance.

 

And, holy crap, she wasn’t the only one aroused.

 

Against her belly, Shane hardened.

 

Crystal sucked in a breath, and he pressed his lips close to her ear. “We’re just dancing here. That’s all. I promise,” he said. But the adrenaline was already in her blood, setting her to a trembling she couldn’t control. Part curious interest and part instinctive fear. “Sshh,” he almost cooed. “Just dancing.”

 

The echo of her own thoughts from a moment before allowed her to draw a breath that almost calmed. They turned and swayed to the music, moving closer, pressing tighter, Shane’s lips so close to her face that she could feel his breath shudder across her cheekbone.

 

He was a fire she had no business playing with. She knew that even as she leaned her face against his . . . and got exactly what she’d hoped for.

 

He kissed her.

 

Just a brush of his lips against her cheek, but a kiss all the same.

 

And as much as it made her head spin, it was the little catch of breath in the back of his throat that sent a jolt of electricity down her spine to settle low in her belly. Light as a feather, he caressed her cheek, her temple, her ear with his lips. With him, always such gentleness, so different from almost every other sexual experience she’d ever had. It made her feel safe to allow this to continue.

 

Between them, his erection was firm, long, totally unyielding.

 

She shivered, caught between interest and fear, desire a river moving faster and faster inside her. The whole experience was a revelation—that her body had the capacity to respond this way, that a person existed who could pull these reactions from her.

 

For a moment, she gave herself over to the dizzying sensations. In her mind’s eye, she saw them undressing, fumbling their way back the hall, falling naked and wanting on the bed. What would it be like, just once, to take something that she wanted without worrying about anyone else, without being afraid? Just one wild, secret night, all for her? What would Shane be like?

 

So that’s Shane and Crystal for you! Did you have a favorite line? Thanks for reading!

~Laura

 

“Edgy, sexy, and full of suspense! A great read from a great new author!”

~J.R. Ward on Hard As It Gets

 

About Hard As You Can:

Five dishonored soldiers.

Former Special Forces.

One last mission.

These are the men of Hard Ink.

 

Ever since hard-bodied, drop-dead-charming Shane McCallan strolled into the dance club where Crystal Dean works, he's shown a knack for getting beneath her defenses. For her little sister's sake, Crystal can't get too close. Until her job and Shane's mission intersect, and he reveals talents that go deeper than she could have guessed. 

Shane would never turn his back on a friend in need, especially a former Special Forces teammate running a dangerous, off-the-books operation. Nor can he walk away from Crystal. The gorgeous waitress is hiding secrets she doesn't want him to uncover. Too bad. He's exactly the man she needs to protect her sister, her life, and her heart. All he has to do is convince her that when something feels this good, you hold on as hard as you can--and never let go.

 

Read an Extended Excerpt of Book 1, Hard As It Gets

Buy Hard As You Can at Amazon | B&N | iTunes | Kobo

 

About Laura Kaye:

Laura is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over a dozen books in contemporary and paranormal romance. Growing up, Laura’s large extended family believed in the supernatural, and family lore involving angels, ghosts, and evil-eye curses cemented in Laura a life-long fascination with storytelling and all things paranormal. She lives in Maryland with her husband, two daughters, and cute-but-bad dog, and appreciates her view of the Chesapeake Bay every day.

 

Website | Blog | Facebook | Hard Ink Puppy FB | Twitter | Newsletter SignUp

 

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WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE GENRE OF ROMANCE?

What's your favorite sort of romance? Hot and spicy? Sweet? Fantastic? Out of this world? Historical? Ghostly? Suspenseful? No matter what your taste, you'll find love stories to satisfy from these outstanding authors.

I love romance novels. I prefer Contemporary and Paranormal. Ghostly tales are my favorites. How about you?



STOP BY TO VISIT THE ROMANCE AUTHORS. Click on the link to find a romance warm your heart or tantalize your senses.
 

COVER REVEAL & GIVEAWAY ~ SILK & SCORN ~ BY CASSANDRA DEAN

 

 

No matter how much their mothers wanted Sarah and Arthur to wed, Sarah had loathed him. However, circumstance# and her late husband’s father conspire against her, and she is forced to turn to Arthur #for help. Perhaps she needs his legal expertise, but she refuses to acknowledge how handsome her oldest foe has become…or her reaction to him. His childhood nemesis is the last person Arthur Davenport expected to require his services. When a spurious claim against her late husband’s estate brings Sarah Wetherall to his door, he can’t refuse the pretty widow, no matter how much he wants to. Thrown together by fate, will they discover there is a fine line between scorn and passion?

The Silk Series, Book 2 Early Victorian Sweet Romance Coming 19 February 2014 Decadent Publishing

 EXCERPT
 
He stared down at the name. There was something familiar about it, but he could not recall what it might be. He shrugged. She was soon to appear, and any familiarity would be quickly established. At that, the door opened and a woman who could only be Mrs. Wetherall swept in, an obscenely large hat obscuring most of her face. A gown of uncommon simplicity clothed her person, but for all the garment was simple, it was obviously well made, which suggested wealth. Ah, well, no matter if he knew her name or not. A wealthy client was always welcome. Dunn trailed behind her, his expression as eager as ever. “Mrs. Wetherall, sir.” Arthur inclined his head. “Thank you. That will be all.” “Right you are, sir.” The clerk bobbed his head and left, closing the door behind him with a quiet click. Arthur turned his regard to the woman. Currently she studied his qualifications, hung on the wall along with the framed pictures his mother had given him for his birthday every year since he’d become a solicitor. “Mrs. Wetherall, good afternoon. Please, seat yourself.” Her shoulders straightened infinitesimally but she didn’t respond, instead continuing to regard the wall. Irritation tugged, but he suppressed it. Emotion would get him nowhere. “Mrs. Wetherall?” With a sweep of her skirts, the lady and her hat settled into the chair before his desk. Frowning, he sank to his own seat. That enormous hat was absurd, still disguising her face. Why did women think such things were attractive? In addition to being ludicrous, it no doubt put undue pressure upon her neck. Lacing her hands in her lap, the lady finally spoke. “I find I require the services of a solicitor in regards to my late husband’s will.” The hair at the back of his neck stood up. No. Oh, Christ, no. The hat tilted, exposing her face. Every muscle in Arthur’s body seized. Mrs. Wetherall, formerly Miss Sarah Stanhope and the bane of his childhood, glared at him from beneath her ridiculous hat.

BIO     

Fairy tales, Famous Fives, fantasies and fancies; horror stories, gumshoe detectives, science fiction; Cassandra read it all. Then she discovered Romance and a true passion was born.

 

So, once upon a time, after making a slight detour into the world of finance, Cassandra tried her hand at writing. After a brief foray into horror, she couldn’t discount her true passion. She started to write Romance and fell head over heels.

 

The love affair exists to this very day.

 

Cassandra lives in Adelaide, South Australia.

Cassandra Dean

http://cassandradean.com

http://cassandraandlucy.wordpress.com

Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads 

 

SILK & SCANDAL - The Silk Series, Book 1. Available now from Decadent Publishing

FOOL'S GOLD - The Diamond Series, Book 2. Available now from Decadent Publishing's Western Escape

ROUGH DIAMOND - The Diamond Series, Book 1. Available now from Decadent Publishing's Western Escape

TEACH ME - Available now from Decadent Publishing 
ENSLAVED - Available now from Decadent Publishing

  

SILK & SCORN - The Silk Series, Book 2. Available soon from Decadent Publishing

 

GIVEAWAY RAFFLECOPTER  FOR SILK & SCORN SWAG BAG

 

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GUEST POST AUTHOR V. L. LOCEY

Thank you to Kathleen for hosting me on my Pink Pucks & Power Plays road trip!

 

One of the best things about being an author, aside from being able to kill off people that aggravate you in real life in your books, is being able to create something from scratch. I'm not sure how the creative process for all writers works, but for me it begins with an idea or notion. Generally this notion isn`t firmly rooted in anything solid, it`s kind of a free floating apparition that bounces around inside my mind. Sometimes the ghost of a novel disappears when I shine the light of reason on it.

'Uhm yeah, zombie cats that ride OCC choppers is cool, but I`m not sure that a cat could pass the written part of the motorcycle licensing exam. They have no thumbs to hold the pen.'

Other ideas are specters just waiting for a blank page to bring them to life. That was the case with my To Love a Wildcat series. After writing Goaltender`s Penalty, an M/M hockey novella, I knew I wanted to pen more ice hockey romance. Being a big fan of the New York Rangers, my love of the sport, and the men that play it, was already in place. Now, I needed a team. Since I`ve lived on the east coast of the United States all my life, I placed my new team in a city I had visited numerous times, Philadelphia.

Then I had to ascertain if this series would be male/male or male/female, as I do pen both. That decision was an easy one, for most of my work comes to me with the sexes of the leads already in place. So, the Wildcat series would be male/female. Check. Now we needed the starring male and the female.

 I knew that I wanted the ladies of the Wildcats to be different from the typical mold of romance heroines. So Viviana was created. Viv is a sassy, curvy woman who has embraced her plus size. Her leading man, the handsome, and younger, defenseman Alain Lessard, contrary to what many would have us believe, finds Viviana highly enticing and erotic. I knew Alain was from Quebec the moment I wrote him. I could hear that sensual accent in my mind.

I bet you think we`re done now, right? Wrong. Now we needed to create an entire hockey team and organization. From scratch. That is a lot of people! This is what the process looked like.

 

It took a great deal of time but was well worth it. From owner to equipment manager the Philadelphia Wildcats are neatly laid out on virtual paper. After that, I could dive into writing this erotic romance. And dive I did! How about a PG rated excerpt so you can meet Viviana and Alain and dive in as well?!

*~*~*
BLURB

Viviana Land just can`t seem to say no to her younger sister. Somehow, the curvaceous society page reporter gets lassoed into serving as her niece`s Busy Bee scout leader. One overheated engine later, Viviana and her girls find themselves in the Green Hills Ice Rink. Enter Alain Lessard, the charmingly handsome defenseman for the Philadelphia Wildcats, who is donating his summer to coaching the youth league.

When our intrepid reporter is given the opportunity to write the break-out story of her career, Viviana leaps at the chance. Thinking it would be easy to flirt and tease some juicy tidbits out of Alain, Viviana soon finds herself falling for the sensual, younger, kind-hearted man. Will she put aside her virtual pen for a chance to stay at her new paramour`s side? Or will Viviana finally get away from those mundane bakery opening articles by using the man she may possibly be in love with? 

EXCERPT

Four dogs raced off the front porch that ran the length of the front of the house. They hit the driver’s side door like a pack of rabid wolves, barking and clawing at my paint job. I was not impressed. I didn’t dare get out, lest my lovely dress get ruined. The porch light came on and Alain filled the door. His shoulders looked as if they would barely fit through the doorway as he sauntered out to stand on the porch. Toenails were scrabbling on the window. I tooted the horn. Even with the windows up, his bellow was clear. The dogs ran to him, their tongues lolling. He rubbed the various furry heads as if praising them for attacking me. I pushed my door open and something the size of a feral cat leaped into my lap. I screamed as the animal went for my face.

 

“Daisy!” Alain shouted as I swatted and shrieked. The beast sat down instantly. I opened my eyes and found a canine that possibly weighed four pounds sitting on my thighs. My dress was covered with mud and hair and spittle flecks. Daisy, the frizzy white hellion, was wagging her stumpy tail and smiling at me. I was now far less than amused. Alain reached in, kissed my cheek then lifted the little dog from my lap. “She is so very glad to see you.”

 

“Yes, I can still smell her exuberance,” I sniffed, frowning down at the ruination of my clothing. I tried to remove the mud and fur, hopelessly. “It took me half an hour to choose this dress!”

 

“We can clean it up,” he said, dropping down into a crouch to swat at a hairball sticking to my thigh with determination. “Come inside. We will take it off and toss it in the washing machine.”

 

I looked over at him as if he had lost his mind.

 

“Alain, this is an original Presterman Gondola. You don’t simply toss this into the washing machine. This is crèpe de chine.” I held up the soiled hem of cool crème. “This will require a professional cleaner and a prayer to the dry cleaning gods that the rusty, red soil stains will come out of it!”

 

“She is very sorry,” Alain cooed, holding the tiny dog up at eye level. I glowered at the mutt. She lapped at my nose. “See? She did not mean to ruin your crap dress."

 

“Crèpe,” I muttered, slinging my legs out of the car. Alain eyed them with open admiration as he straightened and stepped back. His arm went around my waist with familiarity that I enjoyed.

 

“Yes, crèpe,” he said, pronouncing the word as if he were clearing his throat. He led me through the happy hounds into the house. It was a massive, old place, with large, airy rooms going off in haphazard directions. The furnishings were used, more than likely by the hellhounds Alain owned, by the looks of them. We passed a living room and a den as we followed the smell of roasting beef into the kitchen. It was an impressive, grand room that could hold my entire condo. The appliances were not new. The linoleum was old and torn in a few places. The cabinets were sort of ratty. Alain placed Daisy, the dress destroyer, to the floor. She went over to slake her thirst alongside the rest of the dogs.

“Can you wash the dress by hand?” he asked, stepping to the double stainless sink to wash his hands before checking the food in the oven.

 

        “I suppose,” I replied, running a keen eye over the wallpaper border that hugged the rather stained ceiling. Alain stepped up behind me. When his lips found my neck I allowed my eyelids to close for a moment. The backs of his fingers, still damp from washing, skimmed over my neck lightly. He found the zipper pull and gently unzipped my best dress slowly, dropping kisses to each inch of flesh he exposed. The crèpe de chine slid down my legs and puddled around my ankles.

 

*~*~*

            You can find Pink Pucks & Power Plays at the Secret Cravings Store as well as all other major retailers:

 

Secret Cravings Publishing

 

            V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, belly laughs, anything romantic, Greek mythology, New York Rangers hockey,  comic books and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a steer named after a famous N.H.L. goalie, and a flock of assorted domestic fowl.

            V.L. is a self-published and conventionally published author. She is a proud Torquere Press and Secret Cravings Publishing author. When not writing romantic tales, she can be found enjoying her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in hand, writing, or cheering on her beloved New York Rangers. She can also be found online on Facebook, Twitter, and GoodReads.

 

I love to meet new friends and fans! You can find me at-

 

Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/pages/VL-Locey/124405447678452

Twitter- https://twitter.com/vllocey

Goodreads- http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5807700.V_L_Locey

My blog- http://thoughtsfromayodelinggoatherder.blogspot.com/