Release Tour + #Giveaway: Condemned Pt. 1 by Samyah Leighton @SamyahLeighton @MoBPromos

CONDEMNED Pt 1

Redemption Series, book 3
by Samyah Leighton

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Blog Tour + #Giveaway: Ninja Girl by Cookie O'Gorman @CookieOwrites @yaboundtourspr

Ninja Girl

by Cookie O'Gorman

Genre: YA Contemporary Romance

Release Date: March 30th 3017

Summary from Goodreads:

Seventeen-year-old Snow-Soon Lee kicks ass--literally. She teaches at her family-owned martial arts gym, The Academy, and cares more about training to be the next Bruce Lee than hooking up. In fact, Snow's never even been kissed. But when Girls Night rolls around, Snow decides to prove to her friends (and herself) that she's not just some boring tomboy. Impulsively, she kisses a hot stranger and even manages to escape his two security guards.

One stolen kiss…

Ash Stryker's senior year sucks. His politician father pulled him out of Chariot High, separating him from his championship-winning soccer team. Now he's stuck at a prissy private school with no friends, no team and no chance of being scouted. On top of that, thanks to the death threats his dad's received, Ash has a security tail aka professional babysitters. When the mystery girl from the movies shows up at his school, rappelling from the rafters, Ash knows one thing: he won't let her get away again.

One interesting job proposition…

After a seemingly random attack, Ash's mother surprises everyone. She hires Snow to be Ash's personal bodyguard until after the election. But can Snow's kick-ass skills hold up against the rising threats to Ash's family? More importantly, can Ash convince his ninja girl to screw ethics and kiss him again?

Opposites attract in this YA romance where a smooth talker meets his match in the tough girl who (literally) sweeps him off his feet. Moral of the story:

Sometimes even bad boys need a bodyguard.

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Interview with Cookie O'Gorman

What inspired you to write NINJA GIRL?

Hi there!  I don't think this is typical, but I usually come up with a book title then go from there--and NINJA GIRL just seemed like a fantastic name for a book :).  Next, I thought about the plot.  I knew immediately it would be YA romance and that I wanted to do my twist on the typical bodyguard story.   In NINJA GIRL, a kickass seventeen-year-old girl is hired to be the bodyguard of a smooth-talking bad boy/good guy.  The result was a fun, girl-power, opposites-attract YA action romance that I love and hope readers will as well :).

Can you tell us a little bit about the next books in NINJA GIRL series or what you have planned for the future?

Yes, of course!  I have a couple of books planned.  One of them is already complete, and it's a YA that I love and wrote several years ago.  It's got mystery, humor and, of course, a good helping of romance.  I've also started a YA romance that features a character introduced in NINJA GIRL!

Can you tell us a little bit about the characters in NINJA GIRL?

Absolutely, the main characters of NINJA GIRL are Snow and Ash.

Snow-Soon Lee: 17-year-old female, obsessed with Bruce Lee, martial arts lover, likes chick flicks, never been kissed.

 Ash Stryker: 17-year-old male, passionate about soccer, country music listener, likes girls that can kick his ass, an irresistible mix of cocky bad boy/charming good guy.

Opposites attract, and I just knew they would be a perfect match <3.

You know I think we all have a favorite author. Who is your favorite author and why?

My favorite author is J.K. Rowling because the Harry Potter books are what made me love reading.  She created a world with Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Professor Snape and all of the wonderful characters at Hogwarts.  She gave me and all bookworms a magical place where good triumphs over evil and where there is nothing more powerful than love.

If you could time-travel would you travel to the future or the past? Where would you like to go and why would you like to visit this particular time period?

I would travel to the past.  I would go back to a time when my best friend and favorite person of all time was still alive and well.  I would spend as much time as possible with her, talking, laughing, watching movies, going to the bookstore, just being with her.  I would like to go back because I miss her every day and wish she was still here.

Do you have any little fuzzy friends? Like a dog or a cat? Or any pets?

I do not currently have any pets--but I love, love, love dogs!  All dogs, every dog ever, they are all beautiful and wonderful.  Cats are cool, too.

Thanks for taking time out of your busy schedule to visit with us today.

About the Author

Cookie O'Gorman writes YA romance to give readers a taste of happily-ever-after. Small towns, quirky characters, and the awkward yet beautiful moments in life make up her books. Cookie also has a soft spot for nerds and ninjas. Her debut novel ADORKABLE is out now!

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Book Tour + #Giveaway: ONLY A MISTRESS WILL DO by Jenna Jaxon @Jenna_Jaxon @SDSXXTours

ONLY A MISTRESS WILL DO 

by Jenna Jaxon

Pub date: 4/4/2017

Genre: Historical Romance

The man of her dreams . . . belongs to another woman.

Destitute and without friends, Violet Carlton is forced to seek employment at the House of Pleasure in London. She steels herself for her first customer and is shocked when the man rescues her instead of ravishing her. A grateful Violet cannot help but admire the handsome Viscount Trevor. But she must curb her desire for the dashing nobleman she can never have because he is already betrothed to another...

Tristan had gone to the House of Pleasure for a last bit of fun before he became a faithful married man. But when he recognizes the woman in his bed, he becomes determined to save her instead. Now, his heart wars with his head as he falls for the vulnerable courtesan. Unable to break his betrothal without a scandal, Tris resolves to find Violet proper employment or a husband of her own. Still, his arms ache for Violet, urging him to abandon propriety and sacrifice everything to be with the woman he loves...

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Chapter 1

 London, November 1761 

Shivering in the brisk wind cutting straight through her thin gown, Violet Carlton trudged across the small dirt-packed backyard, littered with tufts of dead grass and scattered brown and red leaves. Teeth clenched to stop their chattering, she mounted the short three steps of the back stoop, straightened her shoulders, and rapped three times on the dull gray door of the silvery clapboard house. Beyond the weathered board fence of   the house next door a dog barked, but no one stirred. No prying eyes to witness her shame. 

The door opened a crack, and a lad of about twelve stuck his head out. “What you doin’ ’ere this time o’ day?” 

“I would like to speak with Madame Vestry, please.” Perhaps she should have waited until later in the morning. Such an establishment would obviously keep late hours. But the ache in her belly had forced her here as soon as the sun had risen. 

“She’s still sleep. Come back later today.” He started to push the door closed but Violet rammed her boot between it and the jamb. The boy kept shoving, squeezing her foot until she winced in pain, but she gritted her teeth, put her shoulder to the door and pushed back. If she didn’t do this now, she wouldn’t have the courage, or the strength, to come back. 

“I need to see her now.” She raised her voice, and threw her weight against the rough boards. Despite her small stature, she was stronger. He staggered back and she fell into a narrow back foyer with a row of coat hooks and the devastating yeasty smell of baking bread. Her mouth watered and her stomach rumbled. She hadn’t eaten for days. 

  

Blond hair straggling from under a mobcap, a girl, maybe fourteen, rushed into the room. “What the hell’s going on in here Willie?” She wiped her hands on her apron, streaked with flour and grease. Warily, her gaze shifted from Willie to Violet. “Who are you?” 

“I’ve come to see Madame Vestry.” Violet focused on the girl’s narrowed eyes.  “I need to talk to her, please.” Her heart gave a sickening lurch. 

In one practiced glance, the girl took in her appearance, from what used to be her second-best hat to the rumpled and stained deep-purple dress to her scuffed black boots, and sniffed. “I see you do.” 

The appraisal stung, but was probably fair. She’d come down fast in the months since her grandmother’s death. Her possessions long gone, her wardrobe—reduced to two dresses and a well-worn cloak—had been sold, leaving her with only the dress she stood up in. These clothes wouldn’t fetch a shilling in a secondhand shop now. 

The servant girl nodded to Willie. “Close the door before we freeze to death, jingle-brains. Come on.” She led Violet out of the foyer. “I’ll ask if Madame will see you. But she won’t be happy being woke up this early, you can bet your dippers on that.” 

The last thing she wanted was to antagonize her future employer. Still, she couldn’t risk waiting until later. 

Taking a firm grip on herself, she followed the girl down a shadowy hallway until she motioned her into an equally dim reception room. “Wait here.” The girl turned on her heel and left. 

Violet let out the breath she’d been holding. She hadn’t fainted yet, though her empty stomach had tied itself in knots. The pain meant she was alive and by God she intended to stay that way. She strode farther into the room and perched on the red cushioned sofa. Let the woman arrive swiftly to get this over with. 

Sitting rigidly, she stared at her hands clenched in her lap, then shook herself. She had better be stronger than this. Determined, she sat straighter. A classical-style painting in a large gilt frame across from her caught her interest. A naked woman lay on a chaise, her legs spread. Oh, good Lord. Her womanly parts were exposed and a swan lay with its beak pressed between her thighs. 

Her face heated and she had to look somewhere else, anywhere else but at that painting. The fireplace on her right held two candlesticks, shaped like naked women. Wax had dripped onto the figures, drops hanging from the nipples. Was there nowhere in the room without a lewd image? Violet gripped the end of the sofa. The plush red carpet seemed safe to study. The smooth, polished wood under her fingers had been carved in an oval with folds in the middle. She traced the pattern absently, still unable to get the image of the painting out of her mind. The swan’s long neck lying at the apex of the woman’s open legs. Her forefinger stroked the wooden oval, so similar to the— 

“Dear God!” She snatched her hand away and rubbed it against her gown. “Miss Carlton?” A small, dark-haired woman in an exotic scarlet silk robe seemed to fill the room. 

Violet jumped to her feet, her heart thudding wildly. 

“My maid said you wished to see me?” Madame Vestry’s dark eyes took in every detail of Violet’s appearance. She raised an eyebrow. 

On the tip of her tongue to retort of course, she did not wish to see the owner of a brothel, she instead swallowed back her anger. She could ill afford to provoke Madame Vestry. “Yes, ma’am. My brother told me if things went very badly for me I should…” Words stuck in her throat like a fish bone. 

“Come to my establishment?” 

Face flushing, Violet nodded. “Yes.” 

“Who is your brother, Miss Carlton?” A narrowing of the woman’s eyes echoed the suspicion in her voice. 

“James Carlton, ma’am.” 

Vestry’s head rose slightly and she relaxed. “Ah, yes, Jamie. You are his sister? Then I am sorry for your loss, Miss Carlton.” 

“Thank you, Madame Vestry.” Thankfully, her voice held steady, the months since her brother’s death easing the grief to the point she did not weep instantly at the thought. Her current plight was enough to do that. 

“And you have now come to that desperate point where you seek employment with me?” The business-like tone, neither condoning nor condemning, stiffened Violet’s resolve. 

“Yes, ma’am. As of today, I have nowhere else to go, no one to turn to.” A sickening churn of her stomach that had nothing to do with hunger sent tension through her. “Nothing else of value.” 

Except herself. 

“You are how old, Miss Carlton?” “Nineteen, ma’am. Almost twenty.” 

“Let me see you walk, please.” With a crisp snap, Vestry pulled the curtains open and nodded to the path between the sofa and fireplace. 

Violet straightened her skirts as best she could. Suddenly stiff and self- conscious, she concentrated on putting one foot before the other until she came face to face with another obscene painting. She clenched her hands and averted her eyes.  

“Turn please.” 

Feeling more and more like a horse or a cow at Smithfield market, she did as she was told, hopefully with a bit more grace. 

In reward, Vestry gave her a slight nod. “You speak and move as befit your station, Miss Carlton. With a little training, I suspect you will be quite popular with our patrons. I should be able to command a high price for your virginity.” 

Violet’s feet tangled in the plush carpet. 

The scant approval vanished as Vestry glared at her. “I  assume  you are intact?” 

Oh, the shame. How could this woman suggest she had already lain with a man? Bitterness flooded her mouth and her chest ached with mortification. Finally, she managed a curt nod. 

“Lie down on the sofa please.” “What? Why?” 

“I am not fool enough to take your word, Miss Carlton.” Vestry smiled mirthlessly. “A brief inspection will allow me to assure your buyer he is indeed purchasing a virgin.” 

Her cheeks heated at the humiliation this woman suggested. The cold inevitability of her situation rolled over her, engulfing her as though she was drowning beneath a relentless sea. Madame Vestry demanded almost nothing compared to the real horror awaiting her at the hands of her buyer. Still, she had chosen to live. She could no longer afford the luxury of respectability. 

Vestry stood immobile, a flicker in her eyes the only hint of interest. 

Steeling herself, without word or plea, Violet lay down on the disgusting sofa, raised her knees and turned her head toward the garish red satin cushion. Cool air rushed past her thighs. Hot tears slipped down her cheeks. She hadn’t wanted to cry. The time for weakness had passed. 

“You may sit up now.” 

Indignant, Violet sat up and raised her chin. “Are you satisfied as to my honesty now?” 

“I always was, Miss Carlton.” Madame Vestry stared into Violet’s eyes, her gaze seeming to penetrate to her soul. 

“Then why—” 

“I needed to test your mettle.” 

Rising, Violet scowled. Simply coming to this place should have shown her determination. 

“Respectable women often believe they can eschew respectability to save their lives, only to find, in the end, starvation far pleasanter than immorality,” Vestry continued matter-of-factly. “You, however, I believe will do, Cassandra. Come with me.” Motioning her to follow, she headed out of the room. 

“Cassandra?” Violet hurried to keep up. 

“All of my girls have false names, false identities.” At the end of the hallway, they headed up a flight of stairs.  

“The life they lead in the House of Pleasure is just as fraudulent. Cassandra is the mask you will wear to protect a vestige of your self-respect.” When they reached the landing, Madame twitched her silky robe out of the way and turned to her. “Think of it as a role, very like one an actress might take upon the stage. It is not who you are, unless you allow it be.” The vehemence of the last sentence rang in the cramped stairwell. 

Violet stumbled back a step. “Why Cassandra?” It was a classical reference she couldn’t quite place. 

A peculiar smile curled Madame Vestry’s red lips. “She was a prophet and a spoil of war. A woman men used but dismissed because they could not understand her prophecies, although they came true with a vengeance.” A fire glowed in her cunning eyes as she scrutinized Violet’s body. 

More than her earlier examination, Vestry’s calculating perusal made Violet uncomfortable. 

“What prophecy will you reveal to your customers, I wonder, Miss Carlton? A promise of pleasure or one of pain?” The light extinguished as quickly as it had come. “This way.” She started down a corridor to the right. “You will have a room of your own on the second floor. Depending on circumstances, you will entertain your clients either there or in one of the ground-floor rooms.” 

Violet followed, each step hardening her heart. 

“I will see to your training during the next week.” Passion drained from her voice. The businesswoman had returned. 

A shiver shot down Violet’s spine. 

“I will also inform certain special clients I have an item of interest for them.” 

No going back now. She had become a whore. Tears threatened, but she beat them back. 

“You can only sell your virtue once and I will make sure you receive the highest price, my dear. Half of those proceeds are yours.” 

Violet wavered between fainting and nausea, then steadied. Perhaps thinking of the encounter as a business deal might make the situation tolerable. Madame Vestry showed her into a small, clean room boasting no lewd artwork, only a wide oak bed, a chest on chest, an armchair and table. 

  

“This room is yours as long as you work for me, though should you receive a better offer, I’d advise you take it.” 

“A better offer?” Who on earth would want her after this? 

“Many of my girls have gone on to become exclusive mistresses to the noblemen who take a fancy to them. Such arrangements are often quite lucrative. With judicious saving one might have enough to start their life over after four or five years.” A mischievous smile flitted across Madame Vestry’s face. “One of the girls who passed through here briefly—very briefly, mind you—ended up marrying a marquess. That smacks more of fairytale than reality. Still the tale is true.” 

The animation drained from her face as the brusque woman of business returned. “I will leave you to settle in, although I’ll expect you ready for your first lesson this afternoon. We serve late luncheon at four and supper after midnight. The house opens for clients at dusk.” She looked Violet up and down once more, lingering on her face. “You might want to stay in your room tonight. Just ignore anything you may hear. You’ll get used to the noise rather quickly.” Abruptly, she shut the door. 

Violet dropped into the chair as her legs finally gave out, praying to God she could get through this nightmare, if only one moment at a time. 

Jenna Jaxon is a multi-published author of historical and contemporary romance. She has been reading and writing historical romance since she was a teenager. A romantic herself, she has always loved a dark side to the genre, a twist, suspense, a surprise—so expect her to incorporate these elements into her work! She lives in Virginia with her family and a small menagerie of pets where she is currently working on the next House of Pleasure book, Only A Mistress Will Do, as well as a Regency series. When not reading or writing, she indulges her passion for the theatre, working with local theatres as a director. She often feels she is directing her characters on their own private stage when she writes. Jenna equates her writing to an addiction to chocolate—once she starts she just can’t stop!

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Review: Son of War: A Sphinx Companion Story by Raye Wagner @RayeWagner

Son of War: A Sphinx Companion Story

by Raye Wagner

Publisher: Amazon Digital Services

Published: April 27, 2017

Genre: Fantasy, Science Fiction, Myology

Blurb:

Xan was raised by his father Ares to be ruthless and lethal. As a kynigόs, he spends his time eliminating monsters that prey on naïve mortals and foolish demigods. There’s no doubt he’s the best, but the sons of Apollo are arrogant idiots, and what should’ve been an easy kill turns deadly.

Forced to recuperate, Xan is surrounded by painful memories and fresh accusations. All he wants is to escape. Unfortunately for him, the residents have their own agendas.

Xan may be the son of Ares, but his fighting skills are no match for the destiny the Fates have woven for him.

Son of War is a Sphinx Series companion story; however, it can be enjoyed independent of the series.

This is perfect for readers who love the adventure of Rick Riordan's Percy Jackson and the romance of Melissa Marr's Wicked Lovely. With Greek gods and goddesses, curses, action, and a slow building romance, The Sphinx Series is a new take on ancient myths. Ideal for tweens, teens, and the young adult at heart.

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My Review:

Xan spends his time hunting down monsters and kills them. He likes working alone but when the daughter of Athena asks him to let the sons of Apollo join him on a hunt he reluctantly agrees. His opinion of the sons of Apollo is that they are dimwits and does not work well with others. They have no concept of what working as team means.

When tragedy strikes doing the hunt the sons of Apollo blame Xan for what happened while he is unconscious and defenseless from injuries sustained doing the hunt.

Now Xan is stuck at the conservatory while he heals from his wounds. He can’t wait until he is better so he can get back to hunting monsters. But the other demigods have other plans for him. They want him to stay at the conservatory to train other demigods as he is the best.

I have read all of the books in the Sphinx series and have loved all of them. I am team Xan and have been ever since being introduced to him. I like Xan because he is so mysterious and he likes to keep to himself.

If you haven’t read any of the other books in the Sphinx series you can still read Xan’s story Son of War but then you would miss out on all the other wonderful characters and their stories. So my recommendation is that you read all of the books in the Sphinx series I mean you surely don’t want to miss out on Hope, Athan and all the other characters stories either.

If you like reading about demigods, gods, goddess, mythology then you will love the Sphinx series as it is so very good. I can’t wait to read more in Hope, Xan, Athan and the Sphinx’s world. I am so grateful to Raye Wagner for giving me the opportunity to enjoy the Sphinx series.

Author Bio:

Raye Wagner grew up in an urban fantasy just outside of Seattle, Washington. As the second of eight children, she was surrounded by monsters, demons, and her sometimes mortal parents. She read heaps of fantasy while locked away in the upstairs room of the family cottage.

Raye studied the art of medicine long before she had an interest in the Gods on Mount Olympus.

One sunny afternoon, the history of Apollo’s ancient curse and the myth of the Sphinx dropped into Raye’s consciousness. She writes young adult fiction for teens and adults.
Curse of the Sphinx, a YA urban mythology, is her first novel. Demigods and Monsters, the second book in the Sphinx series, will be released April 2016.

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Blurb Blitz + #Giveaway: A Step Beyond by John Molik @GoddessFish

A Step Beyond

by John Molik

GENRE: Thriller

BLURB:

Dr. Brigitte Sheen, an ambitious scientist, and her colleague develop a gene therapy system to extend human life spans. Money owed by a Chinese investment conglomerate for bearer bonds taken from the shadow government known as the Horsemen never gets paid—but for good reason. The Chinese want the anti-aging system, but so do the Horsemen. In a fierce battle of East versus West, the future of mankind is at stake. Pursued by a crazed super soldier with enhanced physical abilities, Dr. Sheen, with help from her husband, Jeremy Hughes, Nikita Patel, and others, must overcome dark intentions of unseen powers... But are those intentions really that evil?

Excerpt:

Nikita saw her opportunity. “Now, I’m going to take you to the passenger side. If you yell, speak, or make ugly faces or anything, I will cut you. Do you understand?”

Liwei was shaking, but nodded his head rapidly.

Once he was in the car, Nikita still had the nasty, tactical knife in an icepick grip pointed toward his chest. “One bad move and you’re dead. Do you understand?”

He nodded.

“Keys!” she shouted.

Liwei reached into his coat pocket and gave her the switchblade key device. She started the C300 and proceeded out the garage and onto the busy streets of Shenzhen city.

With the hum of the 241-horsepower turbocharged engine accelerating up Beihuan Avenue, Nikita told Liwei that she had no intention of harming him if he cooperated. She explained that all she wanted was what was rightfully hers—the $33 million for the bearer bonds. He told her that they were worthless, but she countered his claims with the information she had received from “some higher ups” in Washington. He shook his head and mumbled things like, “this is all a mistake” or “we need deeper understanding” and other ambiguous statements.

At the Fuxiwong Budget Hotel, Nikita led Liwei through the lobby. There were numerous dingdong xiaojie, or what is referred to in English as “hotel girls.” These prostitutes rent themselves rooms in hotels and seek potential clients among male guests. If a “John” shows interest, the girl simply comes to his room and knocks on the door or presses the doorbell, hence the name “ding dong” girls.

As usual, no one was at reception. Leading him up the stairway and down the hall to her room at the end, Nikita kept her head down and play-acted her role as the baopo. Opening the door, she sat him down on the ground near the window.

“Strip!” she insisted while standing strong and holding the knife in a most menacing manner.

Liwei looked confused, muttered something and shook his head.

“You heard me. Shirt—off! Trousers—down!”

He slowly picked up on the highly-accented and strange words that Nikita used in her attempt at

speaking the local dialect. He smiled and became cheeky. “You want to have good time?”

“In your dreams,” replied Nikita, yet the words she mistakenly used were, “In your nightmares.”

Liwei had a chagrined expression. With a quick nod of his head, he stood up. Carefully keeping eye contact with Nikita he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, then stopped.

She pointed to his legs. “Trousers!”

He nodded in acquiescence, and with some hesitation began unbuttoning his pants. Standing there with just his briefs on and his trousers down around his ankles, he appeared despondent.

Nikita walked over to him and pointed down at his pants. “Toss them to me.” Again, in her version, the words came out. “Throw them away.” Liwei looked confused, so she gestured clearly what to do with them. He understood and tossed them to her. Nikita rummaged through them, picking out his cellphone, wallet, and a few coins that were in his pocket. Checking the shirt, she found nothing but his gold business card case, which she threw on the bed. Finally, she patted him down around his ankles to check for a shank or any other weapon.

Grabbing the handcuffs out of her travel bag, she attached one end to his right wrist and the other to the dull-yellow-painted iron radiator attached to the wall. “Sit here. I’m getting something to eat. Do you like cha siu bao?”

He nodded with his head down. Looking up, he said, “If you unlatch me, I will text my assistant, Mr. Xi Luo, to bring the money. I won’t go anywhere. Honest. Anything you want. Please. Let me go.”

With a hands-on-her-hips power gesture, she shook her head and laughed. “Fat chance, Liwei.”

AUTHOR BIO:

John grew up in Rancho Palos Verdes, California, graduated from UC Davis with a bachelor's degree in economics, and has worked in numerous corporate finance and project management positions in the consumer electronics and IT industries. In 1990, he took an extended backpacking trip of the South Pacific before attending graduate school. He met his future wife in New Zealand, and they were married in 1991. They settled in Laguna Niguel, California. In 2003, John and his family (now with two kids in tow) relocated to Christchurch, New Zealand.

John's interest in writing began when he was a student at UC Davis and worked as a feature writer for the California Aggie newspaper. Possessing the desire to write again and with a goal on his bucket list to eventually try his hand at thriller novels, he took the plunge and began writing his first novel, The Fiduciary Delusion, in 2014.

John's interests also include science, existential philosophy, health, and both Western and Eastern holistic medicine. John also plays guitar, piano, sings, and writes music. In addition, a self-confessed “gym rat,” John can be regularly found lifting weights, trudging up hills, sea kayaking, and getting out and about enjoying the beautiful wild outdoors.

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Book Blitz + #Giveaway: Redeeming Ryker by Kelly Collins @kcollinsauthor @XpressoTours

Redeeming Ryker
Kelly Collins
(Boys Of Fury #1)
Publication date: April 24th 2017
Genres: New Adult, Romance

Imagine finding out that everything about your life is a lie.
Imagine falling for the man who thinks he killed you.
Imagine having to remain dead so you can keep him.

Twenty-four-year-old Ana Barrett knows who she is. She’s a struggling artist, a loyal friend, an orphan raised by loving grandparents. After a string of unlucky events leaves her homeless, broke, and alone, she receives a timely gift from her deceased grandmother—a house in Fury, Colorado. It’s a gift guaranteed to change her life in ways she can’t imagine.

Ryker Savage has always known who he is. He’s a brother, a friend, an orphan, and a murderer. One decision made twenty years ago altered the future of an entire town. At twenty-eight, he’s done his time, paid his dues, and wants to be left to his misery.

When Ana arrives in Fury, she changes everything he thought he knew. His light becomes dark, his dark becomes light, and his truth becomes the lie he’s lived forever.

Ana’s future hangs in the balance. Ryker’s future is carved from his past. Destined to have the two collide, can there be a chance for a future together?

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—

—

EXCERPT:

I opened the door and stepped onto the porch. A soft wind swirled around me, bringing the scent of him. That was Ryker, clean and fresh and strong. A tinge of smoke wafted in on the breeze, and I scrunched my nose. That wasn’t Ryker, or at least I didn’t think it was. “You smoke?”

He pushed off the trunk of the enormous oak tree and tossed his cigarette to the ground, smashing it with the toe of his boot. Out of the shadows, he stepped in front of me. “Generally no. But when I’m stressed, yes.” He dropped his head as if shamed.
I don’t know what compelled me to touch him, but I couldn’t resist laying my hand on his chest. I felt his heart thumping under my fingertips. “What stresses you?”
“Everything stresses me. Sheriff Stuart. This damn house. This damn town. It all stresses me the fuck out.” He kicked at the dead grass under his boot. “You stress me out.”
“Me?” I gripped the edge of his jacket. “Me? Why?”
His gaze lasered into me. “When you dropped me off, I went upstairs and tried to sleep, but I couldn’t. I’m fighting with myself.” He reached for my cheek. His fingers sure and able. His touch soft. “I want you.” He threaded his hand through my hair. “I know if I have you, I’ll destroy you. I destroy everything I touch.”
He leaned closer and then stepped back, but didn’t drop his gaze. Didn’t drop his hold.
I leaned in. I wanted him closer. I wanted the kiss he was denying me.
“Fuck it, I’m weak when it comes to you.” He pulled me into his arms, and his lips crushed mine with a ferocity I’d never experienced. I tried to throttle back the dizzying current that raced through me, but it was no use. If Ryker was intent on destroying me, I was a willing victim.

Author Bio:
Kelly Collins writes with the intention of keeping the love alive. Always a romantic, she is inspired by real-time events mixed with a dose of fiction. She encourages her readers to reach the happily ever after but bask in the afterglow of the perfectly imperfect love. 

Kelly lives in Colorado at the base of the Rocky Mountains with her husband of twenty-five years, their two dogs, and a bird that hates her.  

In her spare time, she enjoys walking the trails and visiting the mining towns like Cripple Creek. She likes to think it's the ambience that brings her there and not the amazing slot machine in the back of the casino. 

In the winter, you'll find her tucked into herseat at The World Arena cheering her beloved Colorado College Tigers Hockey Team. After several losing seasons she knows there's a win coming soon. Kelly is no fair weather fan. 

She has three amazing children, and she wonders how they all turned out to be engineers when only the creative side of her brain seems to work. She just chalks it up to the engineering genes her husband contributed to the mix. 

Creative minds need an outlet and writing books is where she focuses her excess energy. 

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Cover Reveal: Historically Dead by Greta Mckennan @SDSXXTours

HISTORICALLY DEAD

by Greta McKennan

Genre: Cozy Mystery

Pub Date: 12/19/2017

Seamstress Daria Dembrowski must find a historically-minded killer before the fabric of her peaceful town rips wide open . . .

When the reality show My House in History comes to Laurel Springs, Pennsylvania, savvy seamstress Daria Dembrowski sees a business opportunity. The show follows two elderly sisters’ quest to restore their colonial mansion, and that means a heap of work for a seamstress who specializes in historical textiles. Although one of the old women is a bit of a grump, Daria loves the job—until she discovers one of the researchers dead, and the whole project threatens to unwind.

As a series of historical crimes pile up, from a stolen Paul Revere platter to a chilling incident of arson, Daria must find the killer quickly, for her life is hanging by a thread.

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Greta McKennan is a wife, mother, and first-time author, living her dream in the boreal rainforest of Juneau, Alaska. She enjoys a long walk in the woods on that rare sunny day, reading cozy mysteries when it rains, and sewing the Christmas jammies on her antique Singer sewing machine. She is hard at work on the next novel in her Stitch in Time Mystery series featuring seamstress Daria Dembrowski. Visit her on the web at gretamckennan.com.

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