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Tuesday, April 4, 2017

Book Tour + #Giveaway: Streets of Glass by Michelle D Argyle @michelleargyle @SDSXXTours


Streets of Glass
by Michelle D Argyle
Genre: Suspense, Thriller, Contemporary

Eighteen year-old Starry is destined to take over her father’s powerful drug syndicate. But when she finds out he has kept her only sister a secret from her, she can’t trust him anymore. Furious, Starry vows to find Emma, even though she knows her defiance could lead to losing the position she’s worked so hard to inherit.
But Emma isn’t quite the sister Starry hoped for. She’s a straight-laced good girl who wants nothing more than to take down the syndicate that destroyed her family. Starry, willing to do anything to secure her place in the syndicate, accepts her father’s ultimatum to kill Emma and everyone helping her. But the more Starry gets to know Emma, and the more secrets she uncovers, the more she questions whether the price of saving the syndicate is too high—even for someone as cold-blooded and vicious as Starry.

Michelle lives and writes in Utah, surrounded by the Rocky Mountains. She's a foodie and also adores anything Star Wars related. She loves to read and write books in the time she grabs between her sword-wielding husband and energetic daughter. She believes a simple life is the best life. Michelle mainly writes contemporary Young Adult and New Adult fiction, but occasionally branches into other genres.

Follow the tour HERE for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and giveaways!







Release Tour + #Giveaway: Daring the Pilot by Jeannie Moon @Jeannie_Moon @Barclay_P



DARING THE PILOT by Jeannie Moon


What do you get when you cross a brainy geophysicist and a former army helicopter pilot? Chemistry that smolders like a volcano. Keely Anderson and Jonah Clark reconnect in their hometown of Marietta, and the longtime friends find it impossible to fight their attraction for each other. Read on for a peek into Jeannie Moon’s exciting new contemporary romance, Daring the Pilot!



Title: Daring the Pilot
Author: Jeannie Moon
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: April 4, 2017
Publisher: Tule Publishing
Series: Men of Marietta (Continuity series, book #3 of 5)
Word Count: 328 pages
Format: Digitial
ASIN: B01N2AQ7JH

About the book

Keely Andersen hasn’t visited her hometown more than a handful of times in the last ten years, but when her doctoral research sends her back to Marietta for the immediate future, she can’t wait to reconnect with the community and the mountains she missed so much. Of course, nothing goes as planned, and Keely’s truck breaks down a few miles outside of town. When help arrives, she finds herself face to face with her brother’s best friend – the guy she used to call big, bad and gorgeous – Jonah Clark.

Still settling back into Marietta after a harrowing stint as an army helicopter pilot, Jonah Clark plans to spend a few days hiking the local mountains to prepare for his job as a pilot for Crawford County’s Search and Rescue team. When he stops to help a stranded driver, Jonah is shocked to find his best friend’s younger sister is the one behind the wheel. Only now, instead of the geeky teen he remembered, Keely is all grown up with curves he can’t resist.

Though the sparks of attraction ignite immediately, the pair is hesitant to act because of their shared past. But when a project dear to their hearts is threatened, and a child is lost on Copper Mountain, Keely and Jonah drop everything to fight for what matters, including each other.


Available at:  Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iBooks | Kobo | Goodreads


Excerpt
Chapter One
Copyright © 2017 Jeannie Moon

The clunk and bang out of the engine was the only warning Keely had that her old truck was going to die.
            Just up and die.
            Sonofabitch.
            She was still at least five miles out of town, on a stretch of road that saw cars, but not as often as a person who was stuck would like. The occasional tractor-trailer sped by causing tremors all around her, leaving the smell of diesel fuel in its wake. Keely was thankful there was a nice wide shoulder.
            In her mind this was a bad sign, though. She hadn’t been home for more than a few days at a time since she graduated from college six years ago. Ever since then, she jumped from one research site to another, trying to uncover the secrets that were buried in the earth.
            What made the earth tick was Keely’s calling.
            And now she was going to spend a year back in the place where she first learned to love nature, where she found that rocks sometimes revealed more of a story than the best books in the library.
            Getting stuck had to be a bad omen of some sort.
            Her truck couldn’t be dead. Refusing to accept it, she turned the key, and for a second she thought she might be in luck. The engine made a pathetic attempt to turn over, but then it clunked again, and went quiet. “Great.”
Pulling out her cell, service was spotty at best. The story of her life in this valley.
            Still, she pressed the button to speed dial her mother, and hoped the call went through. “Hey, Sweetie! Are you home? I’ll be there soon.”
            “Hi Mom, no. My truck died out on 89, not far from Carter’s Bridge.” She wanted to give a landmark her mother could easily identify. “I’m fine, but I can’t even get the engine to turn over. “
            “I told you that truck would strand you. Thank goodness you’re not too far from home.”
            Getting a new truck was on the top of her list once she settled in at home. She knew she needed one, but what she didn’t need was her mother’s ‘I-told-you-so.’ “I know, Mom. Can Dad come out?”
            “I’ll call him. He had clients to see today, but I’ll let him know. I can’t wait to see you, honey.”
            “Me too, Mom. Me too. “
            Her mother was a worry wart and had recently been suggesting that a teaching job at the university in Bozeman would be much safer than hopping around the world. Her parents, specifically her mother, were proud of everything she’d accomplished, but at the same time, they saddled her with guilt over not taking a more traditional path. Someday, Keely knew she’d pull back from her high-octane life, but for now, her research was her passion. Tradition would have to wait.
            Opening the door, she checked the road and hopped out. The cold was a shock to her system, but she had no idea why. It was mid-March in Montana, which meant cold weather. Not knowing what made her do it, she popped the hood of her truck and looked at the very dead engine. She was no mechanic, but there was a funny smell coming from the compartment, and that made her wonder if the damn thing was going to burst into flames.
            Wouldn’t that be a sight?
            Shaking off her desire to see the old truck go out in a blaze of glory, she closed the hood, and stepped down.
            Sighing, Keely parked her behind on the front bumper, taking a long look at the foothills that surrounded her. The air was so clean here. Every breath cleared her head.
            The expansive beauty was overwhelming at times. It was easy to take for granted that she was coming back to such a beautiful place. Less than fifty yards away, the Yellowstone River ambled past, its water bubbling and cold. There was still snow on the banks, a gentle reminder that the weather was still unpredictable. Further on, the dormant grass in the meadow faded into a grove of trees and then the mountains rose into the sky. A few cattle dotted the landscape, and almost immediately, a sense of calm settled over her. Home was a good idea. It was time. Keely had missed it.
            Her work was all she knew, and it had her full attention all the time, but she was ready to put school behind her. A prime research job was waiting for her when she finished her dissertation, and she couldn’t wait to apply what she’d learned to make lives better. And maybe somewhere in there, she could start having an actual life.
            The mountain ranges around Marietta were perfect for her final study and coming home was no hardship. She’d missed her family and her friends. Missed her grandparents. Missed her hometown. It was going to be different being back in the middle of nowhere, but in some way, she was ready for a new routine. A lot had happened while she was gone, and it was high time she gave some attention to the people who had given so much to her.
Sitting on the wide chrome bumper of the truck, she glanced at her watch before wrapping her parka tightly around her and folding her arms. It might be an hour before her father arrived. Or longer. She could call roadside assistance, but that was no guarantee of help arriving any quicker. She sighed. It really was time to buy a new truck. She couldn’t risk getting stranded in some of the more isolated spots she planned on studying. The last time she got in trouble in the mountains, she’d nearly died.
In the distance, she heard a car coming her way. Probably a pick-up truck, based on the sound. It was a steady hum, but then something changed. The truck was slowing down. She took a deep breath, but then froze when she heard the telltale sound of tires kicking up gravel. The driver cut the engine. A door slammed. Footsteps.
Keely cursed herself for not following rule one of being stranded on the highway: Stay in the car. Why hadn’t she stayed in her truck? She knew better. The headlines flashed before her eyes.
Clueless Graduate Student Murdered on Side of the Road.
It would be a brutal end. She just knew it.
With her hands over her heart, Keely thought about how her poor parents would react when they heard she’d gone missing. They were strong people, and they’d gotten her through so much, losing a child would devastate them. She took deep breaths and steeled her spine waiting for the end to come.
Crap.
She shrunk down against the grill and listened. The footsteps drew closer. “Hey, do you need…” The voice was deep and soft, like a warm summer day in the hills. “Science Girl?”
Keely’s eyes flew open. Only one person called her Science Girl.
One very big, bad, and gorgeous person.
Sure enough, when she turned her head she saw the man who had occupied her daydreams and fantasies since the day she left Marietta. “Jonah? I… wow.”
She’d been home a half dozen times in the last five years, but they’d never crossed paths. If they had, she’d have known Jonah Clark, the cute boy who’d been her brother’s best friend was an even more gorgeous man. And built. Mother of God, the man was built.
“What are you doing out here?” He folded his arms and widened his stance.
“I’m on my way home and my truck broke down. I was just enjoying the view.”
He scowled, his brow furrowing between his deep blue eyes. “You should be enjoying the view from inside your locked truck.”
“Still bossy, I see,” she teased.
“Some things don’t change,” he replied flatly, gently nudging her out of the way.
“I’m just… waiting… for… my dad. What are you doing?”
“Move,” he mumbled, as he bumped her with his hip. “I’ll take a look.”
“No, but…”
And just like that, he was rescuing her again. And while younger Keely would have swooned, and let him do what he wanted, older Keely was a little more hesitant. But before she could say a word, Jonah had flipped up the hood of her truck, jumped on the pitted chrome bumper, and grumbled.
“Do you ever have this serviced?”
“Yes. I had the oil changed not too long ago. This is silly. My dad is coming…”
“Uh huh.” He was tugging on something and grumbling. “Call him and tell him not to bother. I think I see the problem. You need to be towed.”
“What are you talking about? I’m sure it’s not that serious.”
“Yeah, it is. Your engine is done.” Reaching into his back pocket after he hopped down, he pulled out a rag and wiped his hands. “Your dad doesn’t need to come out here. I’ll bring you home. Let’s get your things.”
“That’s not necessary.” Keely pushed her glasses up her nose and took him in. He was bigger—broader—than the last time she saw him, if that were possible. His angular jaw was rough with stubble, and his eyes were a stormy blue. Something was different, though. Jonah had always been more serious than her brother, but he had a sweetness to him that made all that brawn totally irresistible. He was steady and mature, but it was his innate kindness that made him so special. He did his best to hide it from people, but he couldn’t hide it from her. Even now, couched in seriousness, there was no way to hide he was a good man.
“It’s necessary.”
“Jonah, I can wait for my father.”
“Call. Him.”
She was all revved up and ready to argue, because gorgeous or not, she didn’t like to be told what to do. But something stopped her. Something in the way he made her take a breath, and fold like a lawn chair. She was weak.
“Fine.” She threw up her hands. “This is under protest.”
“Whatever. Where are your things?” He really was bossy and stubborn. But there was no use fighting it. She gave up the information.
“My duffle is behind the passenger seat, and there are four large plastic totes with my equipment secured in the back.”
“Four? I thought you science types traveled light. You know, more room for your microscopes.” From the corner of her eye she could see his wry grin. No way was she going to give him the satisfaction of a snarky response.
“Not this time.”
Pulling her cell from her pocket, Keely pressed the button for her mother.
She felt so much of the old Jonah in their exchange. He was concerned. Kind. He wanted to help. But something had changed. He was more somber, and there was a very dangerous edge. Something in his eyes told her Jonah Clark had a story, and Keely intended to find out what it was.


Giveaway


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About the author

Bestselling contemporary romance author Jeannie Moon, has always been a romantic. When she’s not spin­ning tales of her own, Jean­nie works as a school librar­ian, thank­ful she has a job that allows her to immerse her­self in books and call it work. Mar­ried to her high school sweet­heart, she has three kids, three lov­able dogs and resides on Long Island, NY. If she’s more than ten miles away from salt water for any longer than a week, she gets twitchy.   Visit Jeannie’s web­site at www.jeanniemoon.com





Follow Jeannie online

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Book Tour + #Giveaway: Cleaved by Sue Coletta @SueColetta1 @SDSXXTours


Cleaved
Grafton County Series, Book 2
by Sue Coletta
Genre: Thriller, Suspense

Author Sage Quintano writes about crime. Her husband Niko investigates it. Together they make an unstoppable team. But no one counted on a twisted serial killer, who stalks their sleepy community, uproots their happy home, and splits the threads that bonds their family unit.
Darkness swallows the Quintanos whole—ensnared by a ruthless killer out for blood. Why he focused on Sage remains a mystery, but he won’t stop till she dies like the others.
Women impaled by deer antlers, bodies encased in oil drums, nursery rhymes, and the Suicide King. What connects these cryptic clues? For Sage and Niko, the truth may be more terrifying than they ever imagined.






Marred
Grafton County Series, Book 1

When a serial killer breaks into the home of bestselling author, Sage Quintano, she barely escapes with her life. Her husband, Niko, a homicide detective, insists they move to rural New Hampshire, where he accepts a position as Grafton County Sheriff. Sage buries secrets from that night—secrets she swears to take to her deathbed.
Three years of anguish and painful memories pass, and a grisly murder case lands on Niko’s desk. A strange caller begins tormenting Sage—she can’t outrun the past.
When Sage’s twin sister suddenly goes missing, Sage searches Niko’s case files and discovers similarities to the Boston killer. A sadistic psychopath is preying on innocent women, marring their bodies in unspeakable ways. And now, he has her sister.
Cryptic clues. Hidden messages. Is the killer hinting at his identity? Or is he trying to lure Sage into a deadly trap to end his reign of terror with a matching set of corpses?
Goodreads * Amazon






 Saturday, September 20, 2003
Even the weather betrayed me. Aqua-blue sky, not a cloud in sight. Niko and I sat
in silence during the two-and-a-half hour trip north. Next week offered a new
beginning, a chance to leave Boston and never look back.
I lowered the back passenger window. A light breeze ruffled farmland acres, and a
full, round sun shined, burned, blazed as though this was an ordinary day. The
limousine tires hit cracked asphalt, the road worn from a brutal New Hampshire
winter.
Birds whistled serenades. Preteens played basketball within the confines of
school grounds. Young, adolescent voices carried in the crisp morning air,
rustling hues of burnt orange, scarlet, and burgundy through autumn leaves.
Mountains stood proudly as if they could protect us. Here, perhaps, but not in
Boston, where my nightmare began eight days and six hours ago.
We drove by the Minot Sleeper Library, and my gaze narrowed on the patrons. A
middle-aged woman clutched my latest novel close to her heart like a coveted
treasure. Scorching heat jagged up my chest. Soon she’d enjoy my words while I
endured the harshest committal.
Didn’t she know? Couldn’t she feel my pain, my anguish? Pure evil enveloped my
life, then spit me out like bitterness on a delicate palate, leaving me reeling in
torment.
The hearse carrying our dreams, our endless devotion, veered right through tall,
iron gates and followed a winding road to the back of the cemetery. My fingers
curled around the armrest, and I shifted my sight to Niko.
Splayed hands on his knees, he turned only his head and offered a weak, faint
smile. “You okay?” His voice was barely above a whisper.
To demonstrate what I thought of his stupid question, I shot him a cutting glare.
Palms up, he opened his arms. “What? I only asked if you were okay.”
“Seriously?” I said. “How could anyone be okay with this?”
Two funeral employees in dark suits dragged a tiny coffin from the back of the
hearse. Stark white, the casket rode in their hands as the men marched over
burnt, dead grass. Lowering the coffin onto two bands, they stepped away. My
baby lingered above the mouth of an awaiting grave—displaying my shame,
announcing my cowardice.
“We’ve gotta go.” Niko’s words churned the sickening feeling deep in my gut.
I peered through the side window, the cemetery dark and gloomy through tinted
glass. The world now appeared as it should, mourning along with me.
Niko said, “Babe?”
The limo driver opened my door and startled me. He reminded me of a prison
guard, hands clasped behind his back, eyes focused straight ahead. Behind him,
rows and rows of ghosts, shattered lives buried deep with nothing left but a
headstone to mark their existence. In the distance, an emerging sea of blue
soldiered toward the grave—Niko’s fellow detectives, the ones who did nothing.
I twisted toward my husband, and a stabbing pain stole my breath. I bit my upper
lip, waiting for the pang to subside. “Why are they here?”
“To pay their respects, Sage. Look, if you wanna blame someone—”
“Don’t,” I warned.
My crutches in hand, he dashed around the back of the limo to my door. Jaw
clenched, I sneered at my new mode of transportation and steadied my balance
with the toe of my splinted leg. I dropped my chin to my chest. Dammit. Why
didn’t I fight? Why didn’t I do something, anything?
With a supportive arm around my waist, Niko coaxed me toward the gravesite. I
passed him one of the crutches and rested my head against his strong chest. If
only he could sweep me away so I didn’t have to face this devastation.
I squeezed my eyes closed. I couldn’t look, couldn’t witness the finality. It wasn’t
fair. I had no memories to savor. No first touch, no tiny fist gripping my finger.
No first steps, first word. I never had the chance to admire a newborn’s searching
eyes, gazing at the world as a wondrous place. Instead, I had the harsh reality that
wicked men roamed free, leaving destruction in their wake.
I had nothing, except the faint recall of precious feet kicking my insides, yearning
to break free and experience life. My baby’s lungs never had the chance to expand
with oxygen-infused air. He would never know the magic of Christmas, or admire
glorious lights dancing on tree limbs. My boy would not have the honor of placing
a brilliant star on the top branch as his daddy lifted him so his delicate hands
could reach.
For God sake, he didn’t even have a name. The headstone marked only with,
“Baby Quintano.” This was so cruel. Why did we have to endure such torture?
There wasn’t much I wouldn’t do for my unborn son. But this? Dear God, not
this.
Bob Jordan, the funeral director, recited the opening remarks. I cocked an ear,
my grip tightening around the crutch. I slid my gaze toward Niko. Did he notice
slight nuances in Bob’s pitch, the unspoken truth I insisted he conceal?
Beneath gauze bandages, sweat seeped through the multitude of stitches
zigzagging across my forearms. Pain throbbed from a dislocated knee, and
broken ribs labored my breath—my injuries refusing to allow a moment of
repose. Thanks to a mass murderer who slipped through Niko’s grasp, tranquility
no longer existed.
Tears brimmed in my husband’s red-rimmed eyes and he offered me a reassuring
squeeze. “It’s almost over, babe.”
I swallowed, averted my gaze. I didn’t deserve his kindness, his love.
We huddled together opposite six Boston detectives in department dress blues.
Cold stares in my direction, foreheads rippled in accusation. Bob Jordan asked if
we wanted to speak. Niko swept my hair out of my face, but I kept my head down,
staring at the ground.
“I think we’re all set,” he said, tears hitching his voice.
Bob gave a slight nod and cranked a handle that lowered our child into the maw
of nevermore. Hot tears slipped down the sides of my face, salt biting jagged
wounds on my cheek, upper lip, and neck. The cemetery became eerily quiet. Soft
gasps and muffled cries from my heart fracturing beyond repair pierced a cool
September wind.
Inside I screamed, “No! Don’t take our baby! Please, stop! I can’t survive this!”
Verbally, as usual, I remained silent.






Member of Mystery Writers of America, Sisters in Crime, and International Thriller Writers, Sue Coletta is an award-winning, multi-published author in numerous anthologies and her forensics articles have appeared in InSinC Quarterly. In addition to her popular crime resource blog, Sue co-hosts the radio show "Partners In Crime" on Writestream Radio Network every third Tuesday of the month from 1 - 3 p.m. EDT/EST (see details at www.suecoletta.com). She's also the communications manager for the Serial Killer Project and Forensic Science, and founder of #ACrimeChat on Twitter.
She runs a popular crime website and blog, where she shares crime tips, police jargon, the mind of serial killers, and anything and everything in between. If you search her achieves, you'll find posts from guests that work in law enforcement, forensics, coroner, undercover operatives, firearm experts...crime, crime, and more crime.
For readers, she has the Crime Lover's Lounge, where subscribers will be the first to know about free giveaways, contests, and have inside access to deleted scenes. As an added bonus, members get to play in the lounge. Your secret code will unlock the virtual door. Inside, like-minded folks discuss their favorite crime novels, solve mindbender and mystery puzzles, and/or relax and chat. Most importantly, everyone has a lot of fun.
Sue lives in northern New Hampshire with her husband, where her house is surrounded by wildlife...bear, moose, deer, even mountain lions have been spotted. Course, Sue would love to snuggle with them, but her husband frowns on the idea.











Cover Reveal: Masked Possession by Alana Delacroix @AlanaDelacroix @SDSXXTours


MASKED POSSESSION
by Alana Delacroix
Genre: Paranormal Romance

Pub Date: 8/8/2017

A MAN WHO CAN WEAR ANY FACE
Caro Yeats doesn’t run from much. As a former investigative reporter now working PR for Toronto’s supernaturals, what she hasn’t seen mostly isn’t worth seeing. But the assignment to “rebrand” Eric Kelton’s out-of-control alter egos has her on edge from the start. Kelton is the heirarch of the Masquerada, beings able to change their face—their entire persona—on a whim. Eric’s charisma muddles her instincts. How can she trust a man who can become anybody?

A WOMAN WITHOUT A PAST
Eric has never met anyone like Caro, with her lightning wit and uncanny insight. But desirable as she is, he’d be a fool to let her near. Struggling to hide the sudden loss of his powers, Eric can’t risk becoming entangled with a woman who scorns her supernatural side and claims not to play politics. The enemies on her trail are strong, clever, and vicious. And when they force Eric and Caro together, the fallout could shatter far more than two hearts . . .




Alana Delacroix lives in a little house filled with books in Toronto, Canada. She loves exploring the city, on the hunt for both the perfect coffeeshop as well as ideal locations to set her paranormal romances. A member of RWA, Alana worked as an archaeologist before forging a slightly more stable career in corporate communications. You can follow her at @AlanaDelacroix or learn more at alanadelacroix.com.