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Wednesday, June 29, 2016

Blog Tour: The Mermaid and the Treasure of the Bay (La Sirena #1) by A. Algeri @yaboundtourspr



The Mermaid and the Treasure of the Bay
(La Sirena #1)
by A. Algeri

SUMMARY:


"The Mermaid and the treasure of the Bay" is the first adventure of Brinn, a young woman who had recently returned to her homeland, Nyar Kaad, after years of being away.
For her mother and sister it’s only supposed to be an episodic stay, because their intention is to return to the capital, Adaria, held by both aristocrats, by then, to be their home. Brinn, however, isn’t interested in living in the golden cage of high society and aspires to a different existence, that will push her to oppose the decisions of her family and to pursue a destiny according to her own wishes.
The accidental discovery of what looks like a map to hidden treasure, buried in Nyar Kaad, according to tradition, by pirates once dwelling in the settlement, will push her to search for the hidden riches- an undertaking that the protagonist will face courageously, at the cost of challenging her fears, the rigid social conventions, and more literal dangers to her person, venturing on a journey into the local legends and the past of her own family, until reaching an unexpected epilogue.
Set to Isara, a fantasy world inspired by the period between the seventeenth and the first decades of the nineteenth centuries, "The Mermaid and the treasure of the Bay" is a journey full of mystery in the universe where real and supernatural coexist intersecting in a subtle and insidious way, a world divided between palaces and largely unexplored expanses, an opulent capital and boundless oceans.

"The Mermaid and the treasure of the Bay", is the first publication of
A. Algeri, the author of the novel. He began writing while he was a teenager, setting most of his stories in the world of Isara, a fantasy universe of his own creation, where Brinn, the main character of this adventure, is often the protagonist.


EXCERPT:


My return to the ocean shores was a wish that remained unchanged in me despite the natural succession of the years: I always refused to bury my dreams underneath my immediate needs, believed by other necessary or set them aside after giving up, coming to consider them impossible. I would never have accepted discovering one day that all my aspirations had been extinguished by an existence lost in a myriad of empty mundane gestures after being forced to turn down a path able to deaden forever the light that had illuminated my heart and to be destined to a dusty series of days one identical to the other. At that point I would have only been able to realize how much time had passed and what I had given up; I would have only been aware of an unfulfilled happiness in a past relegated to a far off time.
I wasn't willing to accept a similar future: returning to Nyar Kaad had always been my dream, jealously hidden in me, that I could see every time I closed my eyes- immobile and perfect, a moment frozen in the eternal and inconstant waves of time; the house on the sea, the very white sand, the waves that died on the shoreline, the breeze blowing off the sea every morning. And yet, as with every wish no matter how much I wished to go back to the bay and the ocean and hear its voice again with all my heart, this dream seemed to me, or least I believed so, destined to never happen.
With the passing of time my life changed. I grew up and my childhood, as with all things, came to an end. It was a slow and gradual transition marked by many little details: mom became progressively much stricter regarding the way I could behave, both at home and on the occasions in which I found myself in public. Not that my mother had even been tolerant, but it became practically an obligation to be unimpeachable in every moment. It became an obligation to follow her, growing up, to every socialite event which she believed appropriate to participate in, without mentioning the receptions from which being absent from would have been, at least according to my mother, a true crime.
Initially the occasions in which I would have been able to meet, even casually, a boy of the same age disappeared completely. Then after I turned sixteen my life became a continuous attendance of balls and receptions organized by our family and by those in the circle of people we knew.
My mother saw to it that I received appropriate instruction in dance, governing the servants and organizing the daily life in a manor, dinners and receptions in addition to the inevitable lessons in etiquette. Mom regularly gave Jennifer and me a list of rules and little rules, for the most part not written, that made any situation in which a noblewoman could find herself in the course of her public life a complex and particularly tedious social ritual. Because in Adaria any lady wishing to attend court more than a few times a year, the entire day was directed towards preparing herself for the inevitable appearances in the aristocratic world. It was a matter of an endless series of ceremonies and celebrations on a stage that deliberately ignored the daily reality lived in the rest of the Empire and the conditions of the majority of the subjects of the crown, even those only a few steps from the palace gates.
Most of the books I considered interesting from the history of Isara to its thinkers, from its sovereigns to its statesmen, from the cultures in the various imperial provinces to the nations beyond the boundaries, from sacred and profane art to the novels and poetry considered the classics of the national literature, I owed to my father who was convinced that I had all the right to be cultured, even if my mother, like most women with the means necessary to dedicate themselves to literature or study, believed without any doubts that a young lady shouldn't be too educated. And possibly not at all.
It was in fact a common opinion that excessively dedicating one's self to intellectual activities would cause a young lady to lose her sense of reality and would tend to forget as a consequence her proper position, inevitably ending up lost in some silly dream or desire for some adventure that would only compromise, generally irremediably, her reputation. Reputation, as if that word ever meant anything to me. It was only a gracious and deceptive term to describe what was no more or less than an eternal prison: unfortunately it was also the only criteria according by which a woman of the Empire was usually judged.
Even though my father, the Baron Aidan Fairland, generally agreed with my mother, he was convinced that the position of the wife ought to be slightly mitigated. He agreed with her about the unseemliness of a girl of marrying age undertaking a "serious" conversation at a reception, but in his opinion it didn't mean that a girl couldn't read as much as she wanted in private.
As one would expect, the majority of the writings regarding the history and society of Isara were thoroughly examined by the censors, most of all if it had to do with far away countries out of the sphere of influence of the Empire; moreover whatever philosophical or even narrative text that contested, even covertly, the Church of the One God not only couldn't be published but could even cause the author to be condemned to burn at the stake by the ecclesiastical courts in the case that their writings contained particularly radical ideas.
Until my father was with us, I enjoyed some freedoms, maybe illusionary, but still important to me since, if not anything else, my imagination and my desire to learn was never forced to be suffocated for convention.
My life was far from perfect, I had an unusual character and my nature wasn't easily adaptable to the life that ought to have been lead by someone of our status that was forced to aspire to court, but for years I had been able to carve out my happiness. Even though I wasn't particularly interested in the girls my age that talked about future boyfriends, parties and dresses, I could always close my eyes and imagine that I was in one of those far away places that I was so fascinated by and that I had read about so often in books.
Despite the many remote places that I had learned about the existence of by reading, the most precious continued always to be Nyar Kaad. My thoughts inevitably went to the aquamarine ocean waves on the shores where I was born.
Nevertheless nothing could remain static and unchanging in time, not even my little island of happiness that I had tried so hard to build. With the passing of time, day by day, unavoidably, it became eroded. If at first the society commitments were only something for which it was necessary to educate me, with the passing of years and the progressive insertion of our family into the aristocracy of the capital, all the preparatory frame that they anticipated became the main reason for my mom's life and as a result, for me and my sister. My father was however increasingly more often away for months, sometimes years having started to navigate for the Crown towards the still unexplored regions of the known world put on the edges of the map.
By then both my sister and I were young women and while I became bit by bit considered increasingly stranger and more eccentric as the other girls learned how to behave appropriately in society, she was assimilating perfectly into the circle of friends and acquaintances needed for a young lady of a noble family.
That life made of false courtesy and unending protocol, cornerstone of court and of whoever wished to be admitted to it, had become for me increasingly less tolerable. It simply wasn't an existence I intended to conduct. In reality not even all the imperial aristocracy equaled out the rank of nobles admitted to the palace and I simply wanted that which for generations had been the life of my ancestors. Maybe my ancestors never had more than a title and the estate of the Dawn's Light in Nyar Kaad but for me it would've been enough.
Not that a title alone was strictly necessary to take on an elevated social position: for several centuries the aristocracy, while still conserving notable ancestral privileges, didn't govern the Empire for the Crown anymore, substituting this role were the functionaries nominated by the chancellor's office or locally by the provincial government. Numerous imperial dignitaries obviously continued to belong to the nobility and often after a prestigious career they were given a title if they weren't the first born or if they already had a title they were elevated to a superior rank but only for a question of census and political status the public magistrates appeared often in an ancient lineage: just as many functionaries came from bourgeois families and if believed to be worthy enough, they generally became part of the aristocracy in virtue of service to the crown.
Even if duels were still relatively frequent for futile reasons and being that a great part of gentlemen, as in the past millennium, have been always ready to get themselves killed for absolutely frivolous reasons, like honor and the prestige of one's house or getting one's self involved in some questionable power game, the politics of the Empire, during my time, was in fact regulated by economic interests and by the most pragmatic reasons of state. There were in fact more than a few families of antique nobility, both in the capital and the provinces that had more prestige than wealth and whose means had been sensibly reduced in respect to a good part of the well to do merchant class.

Blog Tour Organized by:

Review: End of Mercy (The Mercy Series #3) by C.C. Marks @CherieMarks


End of Mercy
The Mercy Series #3
by C.C. Marks
Published July 14th 2015
Genre: Dystopian, Apocalyptic, Romance, Science Fiction, Young Adult

BLURB:

After a treacherous journey, Charlie is finally safe behind the walls of The Mercy Research Hospital. Yet, even as she’s relieved to be free of danger, things aren’t all they seem inside this secure world. Revelations about the research conducted in The Dead Forest and the role she played flips her world on its head and makes her question everything she knows as truth.

Once again, with much against her, Charlie must take action for Star, Thomas, and all those she’s come to care about in order to prevent the plan to wipe out everything…and everyone…remaining in the forest. And even as Charlie allows herself to relax, she meets Dr. Drake, the medical researcher who insists she’s creating a better world. Of course, once you’ve fought off Draghoul and all the stuff of nightmares, a doctor with unclear motives is just one more challenge to meet.


Purchase:


Other Books in the Series:
Read my Review of Edge of Mercy



Read my Review of Heart of Mercy


Read my Review of Mercy



Read my Review of Range of Mercy


EXCERPT:

As we walked freely down the open road, I realized I’d forgotten the crisp smell of cold air and the security of sunshine on the top of your head. Being outside without worrying about running for your life was beyond fantastic, and I couldn’t erase the smile from my face as we walked in a small group together. Nervous energy filled my abdomen at the thought of no shelter once night began to fall, but in the fading light, we walked on.

As we traveled along the two-lane, paved road, we passed several houses. All seemed completely abandoned. A large, faded-red barn loomed ahead as I took everything in. The closer we walked toward the barn though, the stranger its appearance became.

The road veered to the left away from the barn in a field to the right. The rest of the group walked on, but I stopped and stared. A message had been painted onto the side facing the road, and my mouth dropped.

TURN BACK! YOU WILL DIE!

The words were clear and the message unmistakable. Who had painted it? And why didn’t the others even pay attention to it? They passed by it like they’d done it a thousand times, and it no longer meant anything to them.

“Charlie, you coming?” Ben stood in the middle of the road, looking back at me.

With a slow jog, I caught up to him but threw another glance over my shoulder before keeping stride with him.

“What’s that about?” “What’s what about?” Such an evasive answer. He didn’t even look back.

I pointed to the area now behind us. “Um... the warning on the side of that barn.”

We’d caught up to the rest of the group by then. “Didn’t you know? Mercy’s a dangerous place. Better go somewhere else.” Tyson laughed as he met my gaze. “It was a well-executed public relations plan to keep people away. Too many people kept showing up at the hospital’s doorstep for help. Can’t help them all, so a few people went out and tried to find a way to keep people from coming any further.”

I glanced around the group. Everyone but Ben nodded. His jaw tightened noticeably as he avoided looking at anyone, and I got the feeling he knew something the others didn’t.

Rachelle added, “There’s another one up here that says, ‘Your children will be taken!’”

It did sound like scare tactics, but I still thought Ben was avoiding the subject for some reason. He knew something about the messages that he wasn’t sharing with the group. I was sure of it, but I just nodded and walked on.

Sure enough, we turned the next curve and another barn loomed beside the road. The words Rachelle said would be there were, but I couldn’t believe the sense of dread seeing the words gave me. When I thought back to the population of Mercy, it occurred to me that there were very few adults. Though there certainly were a handful of adults, they were young, maybe in their twenties but barely out of their teens. Much of the population were children. I’d thought it was odd but figured many of their parents had been lost to the Dead Forest. What if something else entirely were going on?

My Review:

Charlie Little and her baby sister Star have finally made it to the safety of Mercy Research Facility. When Charlie finally steps foot in the halls of Mercy she believes that she will now find the answers to all of her questions and she does have a lot. She soon learns that the answers that she has been seeking for so long just might not becoming her way after all or will they? It would seem that Mercy may not be the place Charlie thought it was. There is just something that is slightly off about the place. You know something that is just not quite right. Whatever it Charlie is just the person to find out. When Charlie sets her head to do something she usually does it.

Dr. Drake is just the person to give her all the answers she is wants but Dr. Drake is not one to spill all of her secrets at once. She will only give as much information as is needed at the time or as much is needed to get someone to do what she requires of them. The answers she has for Charlie though are probably not want Charlie has been looking for after all. But they are the only answers there is. Charlie has survived The Dead Forest and the Draghoul among other things so one more obstacle in her way is not going to stop her from keeping Star and all of her friends back at the Community safe. Charlie will do whatever it takes to keep Star safe and find her way back to Thomas.

Thomas has known since the beginning that Charlie was not a boy but he has kept her secret all this time. Thomas, Peter and the rest of the people at the Community have run into a little trouble of their own. Someone in the Community is trying to sabotage them and put them all in danger and without a safe place to live. But Thomas is not going to let anyone else die if it is in his power to stop it. Thomas must find a way to get everyone out and find a safe place for them before it is too late. After saving everyone at the Community Thomas has plans to go find Charlie and Star so they can be together again. Thomas also has no intentions of letting anyone else on his watch die. He is determined to find out who is sabotaging them and put a stop to all of their shenanigans.

I have read all of the books in The Mercy Series and loved them all. I love the new twist that Cherie has put on what we would probably call zombies or undead but what she calls the Draghoul. Draghoul are people that have changed with claw fingernails and razor sharp teeth. A bit or a scratch will change a human into one of these monsters. I have enjoyed following along with Charlie, Thomas, Peter, Star and all of the other characters fighting and just trying to survive in a world that has been overcome by Draghoul or undead. Each of the characters has a story of their own and loved ones that they have lost in one way or another. They all have had their own heartache. I can’t wait to read more of Charlie, Star and Thomas’ journeys and following along with them wherever they end up.


If you have not read End of Mercy then I strongly recommend that you do. Warning it may keep you up at night. Not because it will scare the living daylights out of you but of course it might. No not that no but because you won’t be able to put it down. But I do suggest that you read book #1 Edge of Mercy first and then go on to the second book. Oh and don’t forget about the book that started it all the short story Mercy. There is also a shot story Range of Mercy from Thomas’ pov you will want to check out as well.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

It all started with an old fashioned typewriter. When my family brought it home, I knew what I wanted to do. All those stories rolling around in my head could finally get out. The press and click of the keys were satisfying in their own right, but when I pulled out a finished page, I knew this was for me. Since then, I’ve graduated to a laptop, but the stories still find a way out.

I’m a breast cancer survivor, a teacher, a wife, a mother, and from the very beginning—a storyteller. Always a hint humorous and honest to a fault, I love to make people laugh, smile, and have “a-ha” moments. My goal in life is to achieve tact and stop procrastinating. The battle wages on.

Book Blitz + #Giveaway: The Everlasting Circle by Juliana Haygert @Juliana_Haygert @XpressoTours


The Everlasting Circle
Juliana Haygert
(Everlast #3)
Publication date: June 27th 2016
Genres: Fantasy, New Adult


The war is approaching and the time to find enough allies for an army is running out. As is Nadine’s life.

Though Micah would love to spend more time trying to find a solution for Nadine’s impeding death, she would rather focus on strategies to win the war. With a new hero, a new god, and new abilities, Nadine starts to believe they might actually have a chance to chase the darkness away from the world.

Until betrayal drags them back to step zero.

Lost and angry, Nadine almost gives up. Almost. Her time on this Earth might be ending, but she has too much to do before she’s ready to die. Against all odds, Nadine will keep fighting to win the war until her very last breath.

Genre: New Adult Fantasy. Warning: strong language, sex scene. This is the 3rd book in the Everlast trilogy. May contain spoilers of the previous books.



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Author Bio:
While Juliana Haygert dreams of being Wonder Woman, Buffy, or a blood elf shadow priest, she settles for the less exciting—but equally gratifying—life of a wife, mother, and author. Thousands of miles away from her former home in Brazil, she now resides in North Carolina and spends her days writing about kick-ass heroines and the heroes who drive them crazy.







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Blurb Blitz Tour + #Giveaway: Lyrical Press Contemporary Romances @GoddessFish



Could This Be Love
by Lee Kilraine
GENRE:  Contemporary Romance

 BLURB:

Everyone in Climax, North Carolina, knows the Cates brothers. But Sijan Cates is famous far beyond his quaint hometown--and when he comes back, he brings trouble with him. . .

Avery Danford urgently needs to get back in touch with her estranged family. If only she could get her picture in the papers, maybe they'd track her down. . .and what better way to accomplish that than to squeeze into the world's tightest dress and cozy up to the world's hottest actor, Sijan Cates? It's a crazy idea, but it just might work. And though the former actress has sworn off Hollywood hunks, she's got to admit this desperate measure might be a pleasure. . .

Scandal-plagued Sijan has come home for some peace and quiet--and to stay out of the tabloids. Then a woman claiming to be his number-one fan plants a hot kiss on him--in front of a pack of paparazzi. There's only one way to protect his reputation: tell the world they're engaged. It's all just a show, as they use each other to get what they need. But in this sleepy Southern town, love stories have a way of coming true. . .


EXCERPT:

“All right, let me see if I have the latest scandal straight.” Sijan Cates sat with his older brother in Dave’s Diner, a former passenger train car turned restaurant. There were two main entrances, one at each end of the car. Booths snaked around the front of the diner next to the front windows while a sit-down counter sat in front of a cramped but ruthlessly clean kitchen. Dave, the owner and cook, was known for his biscuits and homemade blackberry jam, and his burgers. That’s it. Ordering anything else on the menu was like playing Russian roulette with your stomach. But if you wanted biscuits and jam, a burger, or all the most up-to-date gossip, the diner was the place to eat.

“Hell, Ty, I came home to get a break from it.” He frowned across at his brother, but of course, it had no effect.

“It says here in The Tattler you got a sweet young thing pregnant and then dumped her.”

“I did not get a sweet young thing pregnant. I’ve never even met that sweet young thing. Hell, if I slept with even half the women the tabloids claim I do, I wouldn’t have time to get out of bed, let alone make movies.”

“According to them you’ve got a revolving door on your bedroom with a ‘Now Serving’ ticket machine attached to the wall next to it.”

Sijan leaned back as their waitress, Renee, slid steaming mugs of coffee in front of them both. “Renee, run away with me and save me from all this.”

“Sijan, if I weren’t having hot flashes, I’d be just another crazy woman trying to get a piece of you.” Renee tucked her serving tray under her arm and wagged a finger at him. “Now, your latest scandal’s got the Grapevine stirred up. I don’t think the Simon sisters can take the excitement.”

“Those ladies can handle anything. Besides, they’ve seen this before. Remember four years ago when an ex-girlfriend tried the same thing?”

“Thank goodness for DNA tests and poor math skills.” Tynan grinned. “She sure didn’t account for your six months of filming in Prague. You do attract the crazy.”

“It’s Hollywood.” Sijan’s muscles tensed at the memory. “Too many people can make money off you. I’m just an ‘opportunity.’ An opportunity to get a script read, a part in a movie, or free publicity.” “Or generous child support payments for the next twenty years.”

“Hey, I’ve dated some nice, normal women. Once I learned to steer clear of actresses.”

Tynan nodded. “That would explain all those models, politician’s daughters, and savvy career women.”

He’d be the first to admit he’d enjoyed the benefits of his moviestar status over the years, but he’d always shied away from serious commitment like it was a box of rattlesnakes. Lately though, the serial dating felt . . . empty. Especially after coming home and seeing how happy his brother Quinn and his fiancée Delaney were. “I need a hiatus from women.”

“Bite your tongue. Life is a smorgasbord and you are too young to go on a diet. Seriously, Si, I joke, but this”—he rattled the tabloid before tossing it down in disgust—“just pisses me off.”

“Every job has its downside, right?” Sijan shrugged tense shoulders. He leaned back against the booth, consciously willing his muscles to relax. “I’ve decided I’m just going to lay low and focus on my work while the studio’s lawyers deal with that.”

“You decided?”

“Yup. About five seconds after the president of Majestic Studios called me into his office three days ago and explained loudly and in a few choice phrases that my next two films need to exceed box office predictions.” Or else.

“One year ago, this same man couldn’t wine and dine you fast enough after your Oscar nomination.” Tynan sat back, muttering a graphic although physically impossible suggestion for the president of Majestic Studios. “Fame sure is fickle.”

AUTHOR BIO:

A former Air Force spouse, Lee Kilraine moved seven times over eighteen years before finally settling with her husband in the pine woods of North Carolina. She has worked as a physical therapy aide, a cashier, a waitress, an English tutor, a ballet teacher and a stay-at-home mom. Holding tight to her mother’s motto, “There’s nothing you can’t do if you try hard enough,” Lee returned to college as an adult and graduated from the University of North Carolina at Greensboro. Writing thirty-one papers in two years (she counted) rekindled her love of writing, and she set her sights on her other dream—writing romance. When she isn’t swinging on her front porch swing or watching another of their four young adult children leave the nest (she swears she isn’t pushing them out!) you can find her typing away on her computer with her golden retriever, Harley, destroying something at her feet. Lee is a 2014 Golden Heart® Finalist.




Not Second Best
by Christa Maurice
GENRE:  Contemporary Romance


BLURB:

As a lawyer at Touchstone management, Tessa's position brings her up close and personal to some of the world's biggest heartthrobs. Sometimes that intimacy crosses professional lines, which is understandable considering Tessa's impressive contact list. But when rock star Brian Ellis set her aside for the girl of his dreams, Tessa can't help wonder if "spinster aunt" is her true vocation. Which explains her hook-up with rising star Brett Cherney at Brian's celebrity wedding . . .

As the lead singer of BroRide, Brett has lived the rock-n-roll bad-boy lifestyle to the very hilt. But when the girl of his dreams marries fellow rocker Brian Ellis, he buries his disappointment in the arms of an older woman. The following morning, Brett realizes what he experienced was only the beginning of a song he's been trying to write all his life. It's a seductive theme, which Tessa falls for again and again, but getting her to believe they have a hit is turning out to be far from a sure thing . . .



EXCERPT:
Tessa walked outside, maintaining her happy expression past the knot of smokers by the door. This wedding shouldn’t bug her so much. Brian had gotten over his crush on her years ago. Shit, he’d been married before. She’d fallen off his pedestal a long time ago.

So why did this marriage seem like the end of the world?

Suzi made a beautiful bride. One of her friends had designed the simple white gown for her. Ribbons of rainbow colors started as faint pastels across the bust and gained intensity as they wrapped around her body and down the back of her dress until they formed a brilliant train. Daisies wound through her upswept hair and complemented her pretty, sweet face. Brian looked rather sharp, too, in his white tux, open at the throat. His best accessory, though, had to be the expression of utter joy in his eyes.

It made Tessa want to puke. Not because they were happy. No, never that. Brian deserved to be happy. Suzi did, too. Apparently, everyone deserved to be happy. Except her.

“Nice show, huh?”

Tessa glanced at Brett who’d wandered up beside her at the overlook. Or maybe she’d wandered up beside him. The ocean smashed into the cliffs below as if it held a grudge against her. “Yeah. They look really happy.”

“She’s the Holy Grail,” Brett said. He leaned on the guardrail, fiddling a cigarette between his fingers. “She was a total mess when she left Logan last year. I took her out to this place I go to. Never laid a hand on her.”

Tessa nodded. Why did he think she should care? Everybody knew he’d pulled Suzi out of the party where she’d broken up with her last boyfriend, Logan, nearly a year ago. Tessa had been one of many people trying to figure out where the hell they’d gone for weeks before Suzi had reappeared at Jason’s West Virginia place. “You’re a big damn hero.”

“Something like that.” He flicked the cigarette off the cliff, unlit. “Brian’s a good guy, right? He’ll be good to her, won’t he?”

“I’ve known him since he was a kid. He’d walk through hell for her.” Brian was the best guy. Absolute heart of gold. If she’d been half awake ten years ago, she could have had that.

“Good. That’s good. Cause next time I have to haul her away from some asshole, I’m not going to be so easygoing about letting her leave.”

She glared at Brett, but he looked like he’d been dragged backward through the desert by a tour bus, and she faltered. “What’s wrong with you?”

Brett turned, stared at the ocean. “Probably the same thing that’s wrong with you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, come on. How dumb do you think everybody is? You’ve known Brian since he was in elementary school. His daughter is named after you. The only person at this wedding who looks sicker about it is Logan.” Brett bobbed his head. “And maybe me. You and Brian had a thing, or you wish you had a thing, or something. I’d say I could write a great song about it, but there’s already been a bunch. Etta James did three or four.”

“So, are you telling me that party-hearty Brett Cherney lost his poor little heart to the bride?” Tessa meant to smirk, but it came out twisted because of the sob she was trying to cover.

“Only as much as tough lawyer Tessa Callisto lost her heart to the groom.”

Tessa stared back in the direction of the pavilion. Over six hundred guests. This wedding was almost as well attended as the Grammys. No point hiring a band because no local band could hold a candle to this audience, so music had been supplied by a running jam. Everyone was having a blast. They wouldn’t notice a couple of people missing.

“You know what the best cure for a broken heart is, don’t you?”

“What?” He glanced over his shoulder as if the answer to her question was back at the wedding reception.

She stared into Brett’s eyes. Brett, who slept with every female who caught his fancy. And there were lots of those. What with his lean build and washboard abs, he was such a very good-looking specimen. “Wanna?” She arched an eyebrow at him.

His lips curled into a smile. “Sounds good to me.”

“Your place or mine?”

AUTHOR BIO:

Christa Maurice has been obsessed with rock stars from early childhood when her older brother started randomly quizzing her on rock trivia. How many first graders know who the headliners were on the Black and Blue Tour? Christa did. (Black Sabbath and Blue Oyster Cult.) When not listening to music and/or writing, she enjoys traveling, reading and science fiction. Readers can find Christa on Facebook, and visit her website at christamaurice.wordpress.com.



Spooning Daisy
by Maggie McConnell
GENRE:  Contemporary Romance


BLURB:

Her mango chutney is exquisite; her blueberry sauce is to die for. But right now, Chef de Cuisine Daisy Moon is a woman without a kitchen--and without a fiancé. Unceremoniously dumped from her place of business and her relationship, Daisy sells her belongings, plus a few of her ex's, and packs her bags. Maybe smashing all the china in her former restaurant was a bad move. Stripped of her Golden Spoon for "un-chef-like" conduct, she is now blacklisted all over Seattle. Her sole job offer is from the Wild Man Lodge. . .in Otter Bite, Alaska.

Too bad Daisy can't even get out of Dodge without incident. By the time she boards a ship for Alaska, she's got a trail of new troubles behind her, and suddenly Otter Bite is sounding pretty good. But the vessel turns into her own personal Titanic when a series of close encounters confirms her terrible taste in men--including one very good looking bad luck charm named Max Kendall. She vows to dedicate the rest of her days to chowders and brulée. Yet even Alaska isn't far enough away to shake the memories of the sexy shipmate who rocked her cabin--and her world. Thank goodness she's done with surprises--but they may not be done with her. . .




EXCERPT:
“What’ll ya take for this?” Daisy Moon lifted her glazed eyes from a makeshift plywood table where she had been tidying pieces of her past. She focused on the midlife, mostly brunette whose brassy streaks fit her gravel voice. Backlit by the golden afternoon pushing into the garage, the woman appeared heaven-sent. After a closer look, Daisy knew better.

In her right hand, a cigarette was wedged between two fingers while her left hand strangled a porcelain figurine, its milky pastels and melted contours in unhappy contrast to the black polish on the woman’s talons.

“I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t smoke,” Daisy said politely. “There’s a bucket outside—”

Too late. The cigarette was crushed between the sole of one strappy stiletto sandal and the pristine concrete of Daisy’s double garage.

“So how much?”

A cloud dulled the sun and the saintly aura faded. Stepping back to allow yet another stranger to judge the resale value of her life, Daisy answered the brunette. “Doesn’t the tag say fifty dollars?” as if she couldn’t remember how, in the wee hours of the morning while Lady Antebellum pleaded “Need You Now,” she’d painstakingly tied the price tag around the necks of the porcelain lovers.

“Ye-ahh,” the woman answered as if Daisy were dense. “But how much will you take?”

“Excuse me,” a voice from behind interrupted. “What size is this?”

Daisy turned to a stout woman who held a Kelly-green midcalf skirt and matching short jacket. Daisy loved that suit—it perfectly complemented her Irish genes—but love wasn’t a good enough reason to keep something that squeezed the breath from her. “Size six.”

“Is there some place I could try it on?”

“Try it on . . . ?” Daisy imagined popped buttons and exploding seams.

“I’ll handle this,” Charity Wagstaff whispered, coming through the milling browsers. “You take care of Cruella.”

Daisy shot her eyes toward the heavens.

“But remember,” her best friend softly chided, “you’re turning the page, moving on, taking risks. You’re letting go—”

“I know, I know.” Forcing a smile, Daisy attended to the brunette. “Make me an offer.”

“Ten bucks.”

“Ten bucks? That’s a Lladró!”

The brunette stared impatiently, as if she were tapping a foot. “It’s a limited edition and it cost $275 last year. They’ve probably broken the mold.”

“Well, if it’s so valuable, why’re y’ selling it?”

Because it was meant to crown the top layer of a fabulous, fivetier Amaretto wedding cake . . . “Because I’m moving,” Daisy said instead. “And I don’t have the room.”

The brunette yawned.

“It’s like this—” Daisy tried to look pitiful. But it took memories of her long-departed mutt, Sophie, to produce the tears needed for effect. “My husband died and I have to downsize.”

“Twenty bucks,” countered the dry-eyed shopper.

“She’ll take it,” Charity said, sneaking up from behind.

Her auburn frizz quivering with indignation, Daisy spun toward the sunny blonde. “Have you lost your mind? It’s worth more than twenty dollars. It’s worth more than fifty dollars!”

“Let it go.”

“It’s so beautiful.”

“It’s only clay. Let it go.”

“I don’t have all day.” The woman held out a rumpled bill. “Y’ want the twenty or not?”

Reaching across the plywood, Charity snatched the money. “I’ve changed my mind, it’s not for sale!”

Daisy screamed. Charity blocked her attempt to chase the woman, who fled down the drive like a hyena with carrion.

Daisy wilted, then quickly tensed. The browsing had stopped and all eyes were upon her. A Miss Marple–type linked elbows with her equally tweedy companion and the two scurried out of the garage, pausing briefly at the garden tools displayed along the drive before glancing back and continuing their escape.

Sympathetically, Charity said, “Why don’t you take a break? You’ve been at this for hours.”

Daisy took a shuddering breath, the embarrassment and humiliation of the last year dumping on her like a sudden downpour. She didn’t even know these people who were picking over the remnants of her life. Why should she care what they thought? It was her garage—for another two weeks. If she wanted, she could be as contrary and unpredictable as the Seattle weather.

“Maybe a short break,” Daisy conceded, before wending her way between bookshelves and lamps and a widescreen television marked with a SOLD sign. Who could’ve predicted that only weeks after Jason had replaced his reliable television with a sleeker state-of-the-art model, he’d do the same with his fiancée?

Certainly not Daisy, who, nonetheless, had taken the high road, thanks to the example set by her mother, a corporate wife who always kept her smile in the face of adversity. With more at stake than just her personal relationship, Daisy had been civil, allowing Jason to move out at his leisure; she had never intended to keep either the television or the telltale Callaway golf clubs until she received the certified letter from Dritz Klak & Smite.

She’d fantasized about bashing the $2,500 television with the $600 driver, but the ever-pragmatic Charity convinced her to sell them instead.

“You’ll get the best price on eBay,” Charity had told her. But money was less the objective than expediency; Daisy didn’t have time to photograph, upload, monitor, and mail. And fear of another “Craigslist Killer” kept her away from that website. So, the old-fashioned method it was; anything remaining at day’s end would be donated to the SPCA thrift shop.

Of course, Jason didn’t know his precious belongings were the main course at a garage sale.

Although short-lived, the thought cheered Daisy as she passed from the netherworld of her garage into the haven of her kitchen. But not before fluffing the potpourri of carnation petals strategically placed between a crystal mantel clock and a silver-plated chafing dish. 

AUTHOR BIO:

Golden Heart nominee Maggie McConnell spent her childhood in Asia and South America as the daughter of US diplomats. Attending college in Illinois, she earned a BA in Art and an MBA while working at the local animal shelter. At 26, she packed her dog and cat into a Ford truck and drove the Alcan Highway to Alaska, where she spent 23 years exploring The Last Frontier in single-engine Cessnas. An animal-rights advocate and vegan, Maggie provides a sanctuary on her Arizona ranch for all creatures great and small. Her compass still points north.




Working It
by Leah Marie Brown
GENRE:  Contemporary Romance


BLURB:

With her trust fund and coveted job at Christian Dior, Fanny Moreau believes she has it all. But when her best friend finds a fulfilling new career abroad—and a dreamy relationship with a great guy, Fanny’s fabulous life suddenly feels empty. Inspired to find her true purpose, she trades her cushy lifestyle in San Francisco for an adventure in the Alaskan wilderness.

Everyone thinks Fanny has gone off the deep end. What’s a girl with a Ph.D in Prada doing teaching in an Inuit village? Even Fanny is wondering, especially when she comes face to face with Calder MacFarlane. The Scottish search and rescue pilot is everything Fanny is not—selfless, heroic, and used to living on the edge. He’s also the man who once loved her best friend. Yet something in Calder’s sexy gaze has her believing that she’s a woman capable of great things—a woman who might just find her own happily-ever-after, in a place where she least expects it.




EXCERPT:

The worst day of my life started with an unfortunate spritz of perfume.

Every tragedy can be traced back to one fatal mistake, one seemingly insignificant miscalculation that sets into motion a series of small blunders resulting in utter catastrophe.

Take James Cameron winning the Oscar for Titanic over Gus Van Sant for Good Will Hunting. If the Titanic’s wireless operator had known how to work the Marconi efficiently, he might have translated the warning messages about ice in the area, the unsinkable ship would have remained afloat, and James Cameron wouldn’t have won the Oscar for a hopelessly insipid movie.

If Christian Lacroix had added jet beads to his pared-back coat dresses and peplum skirts, his ’09 Fall Collection might have been the buzz of the season; instead, fashion editors and snarky bloggers lamented the loss of his talent.

One seemingly insignificant snowball-sized mistake starts its journey down the mountain, and before you know it, a shit avalanche is descending upon you.

My best friend, Vivian—her name is Vivia, but I call her Vivian because it’s more glam—coined the phrase “shit avalanche.” It’s an unpalatably graphic and overblown phrase and not one I use often, but it superbly describes my situation.

My shit avalanche started with an unwelcome spritz of Kitty Kat’s Purrfect. Kitty Kat, the bubblegum pop singing phenom, might know a thing or two about writing hit songs, but she doesn’t know a thing about the delicate art of blending scents to create an intoxicating perfume.

How could a spritz of perfume cause a disaster?

I will start at the awful beginning, but only because I hope my tragic story will serve as a cautionary tale. The Titanic. James Cameron.

Christian Lacroix. Stéphanie Moreau. The world has suffered enough disasters. Read and learn, mon amie.


AUTHOR BIO:

Leah Marie Brown has worked as a journalist and photographer. An avid traveler, she has had adventures and mishaps from Paris to Tokyo. She doesn't buy cheesy tee-shirts or useless bric-a-brac, but prefers friendships and memories as souvenirs from her travels. She lives a bike ride away from the white sand beaches of Florida’s Emerald Coast with her husband, children, and pampered poodles. She is hard at work on the next novel in The It Girls series, but loves to hear from readers. Please visit her website at www.leahmariebrown.com Follow Vivia on Twitter @Chic_Traveler and Pinterest as Vivia Perpetual Grant, Perpetual Virgin.




Giveaway:

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