Guest Post: The Tears of the Rose by Jeffe Kennedy





One of the most fun aspects of writing my Twelve Kingdoms series has been creating the mythology around it. Maybe channeling the mythology would be a more accurate way of saying that.

I knew from the beginning that these three books would be about the three princesses, daughters of the High King, each more beautiful than the last. What emerged as I wrote was a mythological backbone to this world of three goddesses. Each princess embodies aspects of the goddess she looks to. While the theme is present in the first book, The Mark of the Tala, the heroine of that book, my middle Princess Andromeda, looks to Moranu. As the goddess of the moon and the night, the shadows and shapeshifters, she is arguably the least structurally formal of the three. She’s a more a goddess of the individual journey and of transformation  - almost Taoist in a way.

In The Tears of the Rose, however, the story of the youngest and most beautiful Princess Amelia, the role of Glorianna and her Temple plays a prominent part of the story. Amelia or Ami has been lauded as Glorianna’s avatar since her birth and Glorianna’s temple is the official church of the Twelve Kingdoms. Part of Ami’s character growth is learning to separate the flattery and lies of others – and the deceptions of the church – from what is real.

Not always easy to do.

If you’re interested in reading one of the stories of Glorianna, I have an excerpt posted here.


Thanks to Books and Tales for hosting me today!

***

The Tears of the Rose
The Twelve Kingdoms
Book Two
Jeffe Kennedy
Paperback: 336 pages
Publisher: Kensington 
Release Date: November 25, 2014

Book Description:

Three sisters. Motherless daughters of the high king.

The eldest is the warrior-woman heir; the middle child is shy and full of witchy intuition; and the youngest, Princess Amelia, she is as beautiful as the sun and just as generous.

Ami met her Prince Charming and went away to his castle on the stormy sea-cliffs—and that should have been her happily ever after. Instead, her husband lies dead and a war rages. Her middle sister has been taken into a demon land, turned into a stranger. The priests and her father are revealing secrets and telling lies. And a power is rising in Ami, too, a power she hardly recognizes, to wield her beauty as a weapon, and her charm as a tool to deceive…

Amelia has never had to be anything but good and sweet and kind and lovely. But the chess game for the Twelve Kingdoms has swept her up in it, and she must make a gambit of her own. Can the prettiest princess become a pawn—or a queen?

Available at Amazon

Available in ebook and paperback 


***

Excerpt:

Night fell, heavy clouds obscuring the sky so no moonlight or starlight lit our way. We climbed the foothills in a single file, my steed in the center of the lineup with its nose in the tail of the horse Marin rode. The White Monk followed directly behind me, soldiers sandwiching us between. Below in the valley, the lights of Ordnung shone through the darkness, a beacon of civilization. Despite the warm cloak I’d been given, I shivered with the longing to be tucked inside my suite of rooms there.

So many things had been decided for me, like the cloak and what clothes I’d wear. I supposed they normally were, as my ladies and maids took care of me and packed for excursions. But they knew to include what I liked and would probably want. If I’d realized I’d be bundled along, I would have found a way to bring the doll pieces too. Instead they were in one of my trunks, bound for Windroven without me. Stupid oversight. How was I to find the missing head without the matching body?

I fretted over the error. This wasn’t the mission I’d had in mind at all. Somehow it had become entirely what Erich wanted and nothing of mine. Still, I wouldn’t fail.

Unless I fell out of the saddle first.

Hopefully we’d camp soon. Maybe after we climbed this trail.

We topped the hill, but my hopes were dashed when we re-formed into a loose knot, the soldiers making a circle around us. The disappointment brought all my discomforts crashing in. I was cold and tired and I thought my legs might fall off. I might have whimpered a little, because the White Monk, who never strayed far from me, on the pretense that he planned to defend me, rode close enough that our knees bumped.

“Problem, Princess?” he asked. Always with that mocking tone in his voice, though he kept his voice low, as we’d been instructed.

“I’m fine,” I replied tightly, clenching my jaw so my teeth wouldn’t chatter. I would not complain. I would not complain.

“You’ll likely have to tell Graves that you need to rest. He’s used to this kind of thing and to being with other soldiers who are, too. Not pampered royalty who never ride except for pleasure.”

“I’m not complaining.”

“No, you aren’t.” He sounded reflective, maybe even puzzled. “You’re not being stubborn, are you?”

I laughed, trying to make it sound lighthearted and merry, which is hard to do quietly, much less when you’re ready to scream from pain. “While being stubborn might be counted among my many character flaws, I believe no one has ever accused me of being stubborn for the right reasons.”

“Have you ever ridden astride before?”

“I know how.” His silence accused me of prevaricating. I blew out a breath. “But I rarely ever did. I always rode sidesaddle because”—I felt so frivolous—“it looked nicer.”

Above the quiet snow crunching of the horse’s hooves, I heard a scraping sound and realized the White Monk scratched his bristled chin. “This is the first day of at least three or maybe even four—and that’s on the way in. If you ride beyond your ability to recover, then we’ll have to wait for you to do so. Might add another day or three, with everyone waiting on you.”

“I’ll be fine,” I repeated. “I can do this.”

“I didn’t expect grit from you,” he finally said, after a long, thoughtful silence. It may have been the first thing he’d ever said to me that wasn’t couched as a taunt. Then he kicked his horse into a trot, becoming one of the many shadows around me. I stewed, knowing he’d gone to tell Graves that the fragile princess couldn’t handle the mission—on the first day.

After a few minutes, he returned. “We can’t stop here—it’s not secure yet—but there’s a cabin ahead. Can you make it maybe another hour?”

“Of course. I didn’t ask to stop.”

He laughed a little, under his breath. “Glorianna save us all if you do become Queen.”

Praise for The Twelve Kingdoms

“Well-written and swooningly romantic.” —Library Journal, starred review

“Will captivate you from beginning to end with a richly detailed fantasy world.” —RT Book Reviews

***

About the Author:

Jeffe Kennedy is an award-winning author with a writing career that spans decades. Her works include non-fiction, poetry, short fiction, and novels. She has been a Ucross Foundation Fellow, received the Wyoming Arts Council Fellowship for Poetry, and was awarded a Frank Nelson Doubleday Memorial Award. Her essays have appeared in many publications, including Redbook.

Her most recent works include a number of fiction series: the fantasy romance novels of A Covenant of Thorns;  the contemporary BDSM novellas of the Facets of Passion, and an erotic  contemporary serial novel, Master of the Opera, which released beginning January 2, 2014. A fourth series, the fantasy trilogy The Twelve Kingdoms, hit the shelves starting in May 2014 and a fifth, the highly anticipated erotic romance trilogy, Falling Under, will release starting in July.

She lives in Santa Fe, New Mexico, with two Maine coon cats, plentiful free-range lizards and a very handsome Doctor of Oriental Medicine.

Jeffe can be found online at her website: JeffeKennedy.com, every Sunday at the popular Word Whores blog, on Facebook, and pretty much constantly on Twitter @jeffekennedy. She is represented by Foreword Literary.

http://www.jeffekennedy.com/

http://www.jeffekennedy.com/category/blog/

https://www.facebook.com/jeffe.kennedy

https://twitter.com/jeffekennedy

Book Spotlight & Giveaway: Hunters by Aoife Marie Sheridan





Hunters 
Book One
Aoife Marie Sheridan
Genre: Paranormal, Romance 
ISBN: 9781495430725
Word Count: 62,000
Cover Artist: Airicka’s Mystical  Creations

Book Description: 

Abigail is nineteen, her job she hunts demons.

Her life so far has been tough, having witnessed her family’s death and her mother’s suicide she’s taken in by a priest, who believes her when she says she sees ghosts. Father Peter trains her as a demon hunter with three other members, one being Daniel, who isn’t what he seems.

But when a possession goes wrong, and ghosts start to attack Abigail, the tight rope she had on her emotions soon starts to loosen.

Abigail draws the unwanted attention of the Vatican, and she finds out a lot more then she was willing to learn.

Knowledge is power, but for Abigail it’s her undoing, and the only thing keeping her together is Daniel.

Book Trailer: http://youtu.be/7KT2Xy6hh7k

Available at Amazon


***

Excerpt:

The sound of laughter made me stop. As the demon over took the girl’s face completely, my heart rate elevated. Zee, quick to act, lit two candles, knowing what was to come as the light bulb brightened, casting a blinding light in the room before it burnt itself out with a hiss, and small shards of glass flew across the room. I covered my face, protecting it from the onslaught of the flying glass. Small cuts across my hands stung and warm blood slid slowly across my fingers. I took my hands away, ignoring the pain. The flames from the small candles that Zee had lit danced across the room but gave little light. Not being able to see fully, always made a possession more frightening, no matter how many times I did it, it never got easier.

“A-b-i-g-a-i-l.” the demon hissed inside the girl, slowly stretching my name, but I heard it. My body responded, causing me to stumble back, never before had a demon or spirit spoke my name. I stood paralyzed.

“Abigail,” This time it was Zee who called my name and I could hear the warning in his voice. I needed to continue. I sucked in a deep breath, and wiped the blood from my hands onto my jeans, I started the prayer again, saying it faster, and louder, my voice trembled slightly. I felt shook up after hearing that thing say my name. The demon inside the girl roared to life and squirmed with a voracity that shook the bed savagely. The bed’s thin, wooden legs slammed into the carpet, the noise drowning out my words, but I didn’t stop, I couldn’t stop for fear of what might happen. I continued, as a few pictures fell from the walls, their frames snapping with the impact and the glass shattering across our feet. The curtains billowed now from an unseen wind, the bed continued to move rapidly, and the large wardrobe shook violently. Its doors swinging open and closed, the sharp bang lifting my heart every time. Zee stood protecting the candles from the breeze that raced through the room, carrying the foul stench of an unwashed body. I spoke louder closing my eyes, forcing myself to stay focused, even against the activity in the room. I clung to the cross. As my grip tightened, it caused my cuts to bleed, coating my hand once again with blood. I could feel the cross slipping, and soon my hand was empty. The slamming of the wardrobe doors was getting faster and louder, the bed hit the floor harder, the wood snapping against the strain, small splinters of wood breaking free, and scattering across the floor.

Then everything ceased, silence fell upon the room, my breathing moved in and out of my nostrils, sounding so loud in the dead silence.

“Dad?” The one word was filled with fear and confusion, and had come from the young girl; her voice broke through my numbness and fear.

I moved towards her slowly, looking at her face, she looked normal again; pale yet terrified, but normal. I smiled the best I could at her confused face, hoping to give her comfort. She met my eyes with big blue ones of her own, ones she must have inherited from her mother as her father had those muddy brown eyes. She was only about sixteen so young and pregnant; a ray of freckles covered her nose and cheeks.

“Hi, my name is Abigail, your dad called us, you were sick.” I said

She looked around the room for her father, I gave Zee a nod to go get him, and he hesitated, looking at the girl for a moment.

“It’s fine, Zee, she’s okay.” I assured him.

***

About the Author: 

Aoife Marie Sheridan has loved reading from a very young age, starting off with mills and boon's books, given to by her grandmother her love for romances grew, by the age of 14 she had read hundreds of them.

Aoife had a passion for writing poetry or in her eyes her journal entries. It was something she did throughout her teens and into her twenties. Aoife won first place for two of her poems and had them published at a young age of just nineteen. Realising she needed to get a real job (What writing isn't) she studied accountancy and qualified working in that field for many years, until her passion for reading returned and she found Maria V Snyder. Poison study one of her favourite books has been read and re-read countless times.

Aoife's first book Eden Forest (Part one of the Saskia Trilogy) came to be after a dream of a man and woman on a black horse jumping through a wall of fire and the idea of Saskia was born. Now with her first novel published and taking first place for Eden Forest with Writers Got Talent 2013, Aoife continues to write tales of fantasy and is currently working on her third book for the Saskia Trilogy amongst other new works.

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

Website: www.aoifemariesheridan.com

Blog: https://aoifesheri.wordpress.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/aoifesheri

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6551996.Aoife_Marie_Sheridan

Google +: https://plus.google.com/u/0/+AoifeMarieSheridan

***

Tour giveaway 

3 ebook copies of  Hunters #1

1- 10 euro amazon gift card  

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Release Day Blitz Winter Wolf by R.J. Blain

Winter Wolf by R.J. Blain
Urban Fantasy / Thriller / Supernatural Suspense
Date Published: November 24, 2014

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The Hunted Wizard

When Nicole dabbled in the occult, she lost it all: Her voice, her family, and her name. Now on the run from the Inquisition, she must prove to herself—and the world—that not all wizards are too dangerous to let live.

The savage murder of a bookstore employee throws Nicole into the middle of Inquisition business, like it or not. Driven by her inability to save the young man’s life, she decides to hunt the killer on her own. Using forbidden magic to investigate the past, she learns that the murderer is in fact a disease that could kill the entire werewolf race.

Forced to choose between saving lives and preserving her own, Nicole embraces the magic that sent her into exile. Without werewolves, the power of the Inquisition would dwindle, and she could live without being hunted.

Nicole’s only hope for success lies in the hands of the werewolves she hates and the Inquisition she fears, but finding someone to trust is only the beginning of her problems. There are those who want to ensure that the werewolves go extinct and that the Inquisition falls.

But, if she fails to find a cure, her family—including her twin sister—will perish…



EXCERPT


I slammed my car’s door, spun on a heel, and swore I would have a perfectly normal visit to the mall. All I needed was one little book. Even I could walk into a bookstore, pick up a novel, and leave without causing any trouble.

This time, I wouldn’t blow out the lights. There wouldn’t be a single power surge. I wouldn’t turn on every unplugged device in the electronics store on my way across the mall. In the ten minutes it would take me to get in and out, the only thing anyone would notice about me was the fact that I wore a high-collared sweater in late summer. I had a mission, and I would complete it without fail. The novel my agent insisted I read would be mine.

For a long moment, I considered turning around and getting back into my car. Dominic would forgive me if I didn’t start reading the book until tomorrow. I could call in a favor and ask someone to pick up a copy for me. Then I definitely wouldn’t run any risk of blowing anything up. If I had been smart, I would’ve just ordered the damned thing on the internet, but I had waited too long.

Fishing my cell out of my pocket, I unlocked the screen with a swipe of my finger. The charging icon mocked me. Despite running every battery-draining app I could find, the battery held a full charge. I opened another app, a devilish program capable of killing the battery in ten minutes. It wouldn’t, not with me around, but if I was too busy keeping my phone topped up, maybe my mall shopping trip would prove to be mundane.

I shook my head, laughing at my foolishness.

No one would notice my phone. No one would notice me for more than a second. They’d notice my clothes, and then they’d file me away as yet another weirdo wearing something strange to catch attention. L.A. was full of people like that.

I had no reason to worry. Even if I managed to embarrass myself yet again by losing control of my powers, no one would know I was the cause of unplugged electronics turning on or unusual power surges.

Straightening my shoulders, I fixed my eyes on the line of glass doors and marched my way across the parking lot.

In and out. No blown lights. No power surges. No feeding power to unplugged electrical devices. No charging batteries for strangers. I was in control, and I would charge only my phone.

Making my way to the entry, I paused long enough to hold the door for a little old lady who insisted on making her way through the regular doors despite her walker. I couldn’t blame her. If I lived to be her age, I wouldn’t want to rely on automatic doors either.

She thanked me with a pat on the arm. Flashing her my best smile, I slipped inside.

Nothing happened.

Perfect.

I could handle ten minutes in the crowded corridors. Maybe if I told myself that enough times, I’d believe it.






About the Author
RJ Blain suffers from a Moleskine journal obsession, a pen fixation, and a terrible tendency to pun without warning.

When she isn't playing pretend, she likes to think she's a cartographer and a sumi-e painter. In reality, she herds cats and a husband. She is currently on a quest for a new warrior fish.

In her spare time, she daydreams about being a spy. Should that fail, her contingency plan involves tying her best of enemies to spinning wheels and quoting James Bond villains until she is satisfied.



Favorite Books & Series

In no particular order:

Anne McCaffrey's Pern
Mercedes Lackey's Valdemar & Gryphon Series
Jim Butcher's Codex Alera & The Dresden Files
Brandon Sanderson's Elantris
Patricia Briggs' Alpha and Omega, Dragon Bones, & The Mercy Thompson series
Madeline L'Engle's A Wrinkle in Time


Author Links


Buy Links



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Release Day Spotlight & Giveaway: The Prophet's Guild by Kristen Reed





The Prophets’ Guild
The Alazne Series 
Book Two
Kristen Reed
Genre: Fantasy
Date of Publication: November 20, 2014
Number of pages: 198 
Word Count: 56,800 
Cover Artist: Kristen Reed

Book Description:

"The year after molten sand becomes silver glass the following will come to pass: The fire shall give its life’s blood to water, and the wind will rise to claim Hesta’s daughter.” 

When a member of The Prophets’ Guild is driven mad by his own divine vision, he travels to Hesta to deliver his final prophecy to the recently-crowned Fire Queen, Alazne, and that act changes the course of her life and the landscape of Faerie forever.

Book Trailer: http://youtu.be/Fa5ZlBiyRuQ

Available at Amazon 

***

Excerpt:

After meeting with my Lords’ Council over breakfast and consuming a light dinner, I sat in the throne room as I regularly did and listened to the plights of my people. For the rest of the afternoon, I handed out advice and presented solutions as needed to the men and women who came before me. When I revived the old Hestian tradition of opening the great hall to my subjects, I expected to resolve quarrels of great magnitude involving large quantities of money and property, but I quickly learned that some of my people were so obstinate that they were unable to solve even the smallest disputes locally. In the space of two and a half grueling hours, I laid three conflicts centered on betrothals to rest and resolved six disagreements that involved livestock and property. Once those men and women filed out of the great hall, my herald addressed the last remaining fey in attendance.

“Kneel before the throne and state your concerns to the queen,” he directed.

An elderly Hestian man with closely cropped, gray-peppered carmine hair stepped forward and knelt before my throne as he had been commanded. He made the sign of the star to honor the four gods and their fey children, touched his head to the ground, and placed his outstretched arms flat on the pulsating floor tiles. While the first motion was customary amongst my people, the more submissive gesticulation piqued my interest since most male subjects simply bowed or kneeled in my presence based on their rank and our familiarity. However, as much as I wanted to indulge my curiosity about the man’s unusual supplication, he spoke before I could address it.

“The year after molten sand becomes silver glass the following will come to pass: The fire shall give its life’s blood to water, and the wind will rise to claim Hesta’s daughter.”

I furrowed my brow and opened my mouth to respond, but before I could ask the meaning of the man’s strange proclamation, he abruptly rose into a kneeling position and pulled a dagger from his satchel. My ladies in waiting screamed and flames formed in my hands as two knights stepped forward to subdue him, but they did not move swiftly enough. The man plunged the gleaming blade into his abdomen and fell face-forward onto the floor, which burned more brightly as his blood left his body and spilled onto the endlessly rippling surface. The knights quickly rolled the suicidal man onto his back and checked for a heartbeat.

“He is dead, your majesty,” one of the knights announced, obviously shaken by the sudden suicide.

“Please find out who he is,” I ordered, closing my hands to snuff out the flames. “Then report your findings to me and notify his family that he is dead.”

“Yes, your majesty,” they acknowledged.

As the knights lifted the man’s body and began to carry him out of the room, something caught my eye.

“Wait!”

The armor-clad men halted and I strode over to them, careful not to step in the blood that soiled my usually immaculate floor. Once I reached the trio, I pulled the dead man’s knife from its fleshy sheath. As I suspected, a vaguely familiar animal had been etched onto the hilt of the blade. A trio of tiny sapphires served as the scintillating eyes of the blue phoenix while its shining silver beak was open as if it had been mid-shriek when the artisan carved its likeness into the weapon.

“Thank you. Now, you may go.”

Once the knights resumed their gruesome task, I turned to face my ladies and made eye contact with Sera, whose naturally bronzed features were nearly as pale as the ivory lace on her dress.

“Sera, please find Esti and Amaia and ask them to meet me in my library.”

“Yes, your majesty,” she acknowledged with a curtsy before leaving the throne room, struggling to keep her gaze from resting on the trail of fresh blood beside her as she fled.

While the man who had died moments before clearly had no desire to end my life, my intuition still told me that a considerable threat was nigh… and that the two women’s guidance would be invaluable if I wanted to protect myself and my subjects from the imminent danger that had just begun to reveal itself.

***

About the Author:

Kristen Reed is an artist, musician, filmmaker, and writer from Dallas, Texas. Her first book from The Alazne Series, The Kings' Council, was published in 2012, and the two subsequent books, The Prophets' Guild and The Valley of Eternity, will be released in 2014 and 2015 respectively.

Kristen also served as the screenwriter, executive producer, and co-director for the feature-length film, The Dahl Dynasty, a modern re-imagining of William Shakespeare's Hamlet. She is a graduate of the University of Texas at Dallas.

www.thealazneseries.com

www.facebook.com/thealazneseries

www.twitter.com/kristenreedtx

***

Tour giveaway 

Sign up for the mailing list and get a free copy of The Kings' Council (the first book in The Alazne Series)

While supplies last- sign up here http://www.thealazneseries.com/#!sign-up/c1li8


Book Spotlight & Giveaway: Plight of the Highlander by Sky Purington





Plight of the Highlander 
The MacLomain Series 
Next Generation 
Book 5
Sky Purington
Genre:  Time Travel Fantasy Romance
Date of Publication:   November14, 2014
Number of pages:  274
Word Count:  78,000
Cover Artist:  Tamra Westberry

Book Description:  

With the dragon blood of her Viking ancestors coursing through her veins, Torra MacLomain has long tried to keep her Scottish clan safe. But a ruthless enemy has been watching...waiting. As Keir Hamilton launches his plan to possess her, many secrets come to light including her passion for a certain highlander.

When Colin MacLeod's undying love for Torra is discovered, he's given an ultimatum. Watch his lass die a brutal death or defect from his clan to lead the Hamilton armies. Four winters later and in charge of Keir's warriors, Colin battles in an ongoing war against the MacLomains. Yet now the worst has come to pass. His ill-found chieftain has finally trapped Torra.

In a castle siege unlike any other and because of time travel, the modern day Brouns and medieval MacLomains join together in a final stand-off against their merciless enemy. Battles rage. Mysteries are revealed. Freedom is found. But most importantly, a love long repressed at last rises up determined to conquer all in Plight of the Highlander.

Available at Amazon | BN | Kobo | iTunes

***

Excerpt:

Colin reeled her in until she stood between his legs. He braced his hands on her hips, eyes penetrating as he said, “You keep secrets…even from me.”

“Especially from you,” she whispered, voice failing when thickened with emotion. “‘Tis safer that way.”

Colin’s face remained impassive and he clasped her hips a fraction tighter. “There is nothing safe about me not knowing what you intend. To keep me without knowledge only makes it more difficult for me to protect you.”

Torra gently touched his cheek, thoughts once more on the eve before as she murmured, “There will be times that you cannae protect me, that I must fight battles on my own.” Unable to stop herself, she ran the pad of her thumb softly over his lower lip. “‘Tis all part of the fear that you help me face, aye?”

Colin closed his eyes briefly before they narrowed on her once more and he shook his head sharply. “I cannae force words from your lips but know this, ‘twill be unforgivable if harm befalls you and I could not help because you shut me out.”

Torra offered a small nod. What else could she do? Pain and frustration were clear enough in his eyes. That caused her grief as she thought about what he had done for her the previous night. What he had done to her. Not only his kiss but his touch had kindled a wide swath of sensations that swept her away in a rising tide of soul-deep need. She never imagined a simple kiss could feel so good.

Now sampled, she wanted more. Far more. But it wasn’t just his lips she craved. Now she knew there was an indescribable pleasure to be found in his arms. Torra instinctually pulled away. But Colin didn’t let her get too far. His eyes flared and whipped down her body then back to her flushed face.

When he stood she put up a hand and shook her head. On a heavy swallow she said, “Nay, ‘tis too soon. I need time to gain confidence.”

Her words sounded like an excuse even to her own ears. Mayhap for all she thought this morn that she had come so far, she had not at all. Torra watched Colin internally fight his assertive nature. She knew full well he was tempted to pull her into his arms. Instead, he inhaled deeply and raked a hand through his hair.

“Confidence will only be gained through repetition. ‘Tis what I tell my warriors,” he muttered under his breath and stalked into the adjoining chamber.

“I am not one of your warriors,” she reminded, following, trying not to get aggravated.

“Aye, but you are.” Colin’s regard swung her way as he poured two mugs of mead. “You are mine and you are a warrior.” He handed her a mug, eyes the hardest she’d ever seen them. “If you will not share your secrets then I will focus ever harder on those aspects of this war in which I can help.”

She knew precisely what aspects those were. Torra set aside the mug and crossed her arms over her chest. “So you think to train me by seducing me?”

“Aye, lass.” His lips quirked but his eyes remained mirthless. “Your greatest strength lies in the relationship you have with the dragon. To become the best warrior you can you must have full control over your other half.”

It didn’t matter how much sense he made, his words irked her. But despite her rising temper, Torra was surprised to realize that not only his words but the stern way he looked at her ignited…desire? This time his lips didn’t quirk but curled up ever so slowly, well aware of both her mental and physical reaction.

***

About the Author:

Sky Purington is the best-selling author of thirteen novels and several novellas. A New Englander born and bred, Sky was raised hearing stories of folklore, myth and legend. When combined with a love for nature, romance and time-travel, elements from the stories of her youth found release in her books.

Purington loves to hear from readers and can be contacted at Sky@SkyPurington.com

Interested in keeping up with Sky's latest news and releases? Visit Sky's website, http://www.skypurington.com to download her free App on iTunes and Android or sign up for her quarterly newsletter.

Love social networking? Find Sky on Facebook and Twitter.

Website:   www.skypurington.com

Blog:   www.skypurington.blogspot.com

Twitter:   www.twitter.com/skypurington

Facebook:   https://www.facebook.com/pages/Sky-Purington/260484263999780

Pinterest:   www.pinterest.com/skypurington

***

Also Availalbe Now:

Mark of the Highlander (Book 1),
Vow of the Highlander (Book 2),
Wrath of the Highlander (Book 3)
Faith of the Highlander (Book 4).

The MacLomain Series- Early Years (Books 1-3 available in a boxed set)
The original MacLomain Series (Books 1-4 available in a boxed set)

***

Tour giveaway 

2- $25 Amazon or Barnes & Noble gift card (winner’s choice)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Book Spotlight & Giveaway: Psychopomp by Angela Roquet





Psychopomp
Lana Harvey, Reapers Inc. 
Book Four
Angela Roquet
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Date of Publication: October 14, 2014
ISBN-13: 978-1502721488
ISBN-10: 1502721481
Number of pages: 300
Word Count: 63,000
Cover Artist: Angela Roquet 

Book Description: 

In war, everyone loses...

Reaper Lana Harvey is finding out the hard way. When Grim's new second in command, Jenni Fang, recruits her for a special mission, the biggest victory over the rebels is tainted by a crushing and immediate reprisal. The rebels have a new general working in the shadows of Limbo City, luring gods, reapers, demons, and souls to the dark side.

The Afterlife Council’s orders to locate the new rebel base are overshadowed by a desperate and mysterious plea from Grim to find the  abducted Greek god of sleep, Hypnos. Where Lana and Jenni find one, they hope to find the other. But some discoveries have a way of bringing one to their knees.

Available at Amazon | BN | Smashwords

***

Excerpt:

Caim’s ship hadn’t changed much, except for the addition of a few dozen hell spawn scaling the masts and railings of the black boat. The main deck was an overflowing mass of leathery flesh and barbed tails. A herd of satyrs paraded around the quarterdeck, puffing into wooden panpipes, while sirens and succubi danced to the haunting tune, spinning frenzied circles around splintered mast poles. The wind ripped at their hair and grazed their naked bodies, leaving chapped patches along their thighs and breasts.

Caim lounged along the edge of the stern deck. His pale skin looked sickly and transparent. Despite the heat and the abundant nudity, he wore a thick, dark robe. His black wings were oily, almost sparkling in the broad daylight. Where his chin and jawline ended, the flesh peeled away, leaving the length of his neck raw and tarry. The sight of him made me cringe. I couldn’t imagine what it did to Jenni.

Caim reached out to fondle a siren as she spun by, clawing at her flesh with his blackened fingertips and leaving deep cuts that quickly welled with purple blood. He cackled, flashing sharp teeth and black gums. The siren hardly spared him a gasp before falling under the spell of satyr pipes once again. She swayed and rubbed against a succubus, smearing the forgotten blood until they were both coated. A leathery winged demon dipped down to steal a taste with his forked tongue.

Gabriel’s grip under my arms tightened. “This is a terrible idea.” He grunted under the weight of me and my axe. The paint on his wings probably wasn’t helping either. One slid up my arm and I hissed from the roughness of it.

“I agree, but it’s a little late to turn back now.” My heart accelerated in my chest as I scanned the ship, desperately searching for an opening. It was looking more and more like a crash landing would be our only option.

A few seconds later, Maalik rounded the stern with Jenni in tow. It had been a smart move putting me with Gabriel. Maalik would have never dropped me on Caim’s ship, and the plan would have been shot all to hell. He glanced across the chaos to find Gabriel and me, and I could tell that I was still getting top billing on his worry list. I could live with that today I decided, taking in the scene unfolding beneath us.

Gabriel sucked in a tight breath. “Show time.” Then he dropped me on a pile of napping hellcats on the forecastle deck.

***

About the Author: 

Urban fantasy author Angela Roquet is a great big weirdo. She collects Danger Girl comic books, owls, skulls, and random craft supplies. Her obsessions include the Wizard of Oz, over-sweetened coffee, and all things Joss Whedon. She's a fan of renewable energy, marriage equality, and religious tolerance. As long as whatever you're doing isn't hurting anyone, she's a fan of you, too.

Angela lives in Sedalia, Missouri with her husband and son. When she's not swearing at the keyboard, she enjoys painting, goofing off with her family and friends, and reading books that raise eyebrows. GRAVEYARD SHIFT, the first novel in Angela's Lana Harvey, Reapers Inc. series, is now available for FREE on Kindle, Nook, & Smashwords.

You can find Angela online at www.angelaroquet.com

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***

Givewaway:

Tour giveaway

3 Psychopomp ebooks, and a basket with a signed set of books 1-4 and a few misc. goodies/swag  open to US Shipping

$25 Amazon gift card.

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Book Spotlight: One Last Hold by Angela Smith





Title: One Last Hold
Author: Angela Smith
Genre: Romantic Suspense

He has a shaded past…

Wesley Webb is at the pinnacle of his auto racing career when his main rival is murdered hours after their confrontation. That, along with evidence found at the scene, shades him as prime suspect. Now he’s under intense press scrutiny, particularly from Caitlyn Daniels, an ex-girlfriend who knows all about his secret past.

And she’s the one woman who could expose him… 

Caitlyn thought to never see Wesley again. Now, his life could be in her hands. Ten years ago, a tragedy tore apart everything she held dear, including their relationship. When she’s assigned to do an exclusive story with the reluctant race car driver she once loved, she believes this could be her purging. But chemistry tears apart her resolve to stay strong. Can they work out their differences and fall in love again, or will tragedy keep them apart?

***

Excerpt:

She took a deep breath. Usually her interviews became more personal. She wasn’t sure how personal to get with him. She knew a lot about him—at least she used to—but she was scared of asking him the wrong thing. She didn’t want to set him off.

“What’s your favorite color?” Caitlyn held a pen in her hand, poised to write, trying to concentrate on the task at hand. Her focus, though, was Wesley’s deep green eyes. Eyes able to pierce her and reach a part of her no one had ever been able to touch before. Something about the way he looked at her, like he saw only her, deep down, clear to her soul.

A hint of danger lurked in his eyes, a predator-like stance that made her sense he was ready to devour her, sexually and otherwise. A vulnerability that made Caitlyn yearn to take him in her arms, to be as close to him as possible. His gaze held no arrogance, no indifference, and no deceit.

Her throat felt parched. His eyes devoured every morsel of her power and well-being.

She couldn’t think of a decent thing to say. Thank God it was his turn to talk.

“My favorite color,” he said as he leaned across the table, closer to Caitlyn, “is the capricious color of your eyes.”

His lips were only inches from hers so that his breath licked against her skin. His eyes possessed her.

She clutched her pen in midair, frozen in space for a mere second. He touched her hand.

The pen fell.

“Blueberry,” he said as he trailed a light kiss across her knuckle, his eyes still magnetizing hers. Her heart stopped in her throat. “Dark and wounded. Cornflower blue, tantalizing with banter and witticism.” He kissed the tip of her pinkie and went on to taste each finger, slowly taking his time with each one. “Sea blue, bright and sparkling like the waves catching a sunset, when you’re happy.”

Caitlyn, entranced with his words, was amazed he even noticed her eyes and more amazed he practically recited poetry. Where had he come up with this?

“Storm clouds,” he continued as he stroked the inside of her palm. “Brewing with a passion and desire you’re too afraid to feel. Sometimes periwinkle, sometimes almost lavender and sometimes a sultry gray. Right now though, they are definitely–”

She pulled her hand away and scooted back in her chair. Thoroughly aroused, she squeezed her thighs tighter in an attempt to bury the spark.

“You’re full of it,” she said. “My eyes don’t change colors that much and even if they did, you wouldn’t notice.”

“What makes you say that?” He leaned back in his chair, taking the two back legs to its haunches, something they both used to get in trouble for when they were kids.

She shook her head and didn’t answer. The touch of his warm mouth on her fingers still burned in her core.

“I always notice your eyes.”

***

About the Author:

During her senior year in high school, Angela Smith was dubbed most likely to write a novel, and that has been my dream ever since her mother read 'Brer Rabbit' to her and her sister so often that they were able to recite it before being able to read. Before venturing into writing, she fell into the perfect job in criminal justice and later became a certified paralegal. When not caring for her small farm or spending time with her husband of two decades, she loves to craft, read, go off-roading, and dream of all the places she’ll visit one day.

Links
Buy Link: Amazon
Website: http://www.loveisamystery.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/authorangelasmith
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/angelaswriter
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/asmithauthor
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7173505.Angela_Smith
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Angela-Smith/e/B00DYBSIMY/