Showing posts with label paranormal romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label paranormal romance. Show all posts

From @Robin_Badillo a Christmas Romance on the Go, 'Donner and Prancer' #erotic #shifter romance @EvernightPub



Noah Donner had it all. Good looks, great job, and a kick-ass gift. As a special breed of shifter, every Christmas Eve he assisted Santa as one of his famous reindeer. A lover of all women, he’s the quintessential playboy. But all that changed within weeks of Christmas, when he found himself drawn to another reindeer shifter, Mira Prancer.
Not exactly sleek reindeer material, full-figured Mira took pride in her gift as a shifter, while not nearly as confident about herself when in human form. Usually a timid wallflower, Mira is surprised to learn she’s Noah’s latest target, and after a drunken night of unexpected passion, they find themselves in a quandary.
Neither can deny the attraction, but Mira will need more than words to trust the sexy Casanova.

Can the two love-struck shifters play nice? Or will this little Reindeer Game require a little Christmas magic?
Read an excerpt
Noah nudged her against the door, closing it behind them.
Mira gasped. His smoldering expression turned her stomach upside down, and heat pooled between her legs. Had he cast a spell, stealing away her ability to escape? Her skin tingled at the thought of giving in to his silent intent.
Noah’s hands found her midsection and needy eyes drank her in as though she were a mug of hot, buttered rum on a cold winter’s night.
I’ve totally lost my mind. “Is this really happening?” Did I say that aloud?
Noah’s eyes gleamed and a mischievous grin spread across his face. “Oh, it’s happening.” He slowly leaned in, and his lips grazed hers, immediately followed by his tongue. Warm swipes plunged deeper with each pass, triggering moisture that dampened her panties.
Mira’s knees buckled and Noah scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the sofa as though she weighed next to nothing.
His kisses grew more passionate. Deeper. Hungrier.
Mira could hardly catch her breath. This was crazy. Insane. “Get the fuck out!”
Noah stopped. A look of confusion and shock flashed in his eyes. “What?”
Mira laughed, covering her mouth as heat rushed to her cheeks. “I’m sorry. That sort of slips out whenever I’m surprised.”
Noah’s brow pinched. “You’re surprised?”
She bit back another laugh and went with an enthusiastic nod instead.
“Why?”
Mira’s head spun and she strained to sit upright. How could she explain this? “Men like you don’t come home with women like me, Noah.”
He shook his head. “Why?”
He sounded like a broken record now.
“Be-because,” she said stammering through her reply. “Look at you.”
Noah rose and stood by the sofa, gazing down at her. “What about me?”
“Uh … well, you’re built like a Greek god and you have a reputation as a …” She searched for the correct words—words that held a little more delicacy than man-whore. “Ladies’ man?”
“Humph.” He rested his hands on his hips. “Ladies’ man, huh?”
“I was being polite.” Mira squirmed.
Noah’s eyebrows arched high. “Is that so?” He folded his arms across his chest. “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel, Mira?”
Bile shot up in the back of her throat as her nervous demeanor morphed into one a little more hostile. “How I really feel?” Dozens of irritating things about the man came to mind. Everything from his obnoxious, too-loud laugh, to the ugly reindeer sweater he wore, to the Christmas party every friggin’ year. “Well … for starters, you brag about your conquests entirely too much.” She’d keep her comments limited to the facts rather than opinions. “You treat women like trophies and well … you seem to have a serious problem with my ass.” The last part flew out of her mouth so fast she had no time to reel it back in.
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Author Bio:

Robin Badillo and her pseudonym, Tyler Robbins, is a down to earth mother of four, born and raised in a small Texas town where she still resides with her nearly grown kids and a pack of spoiled dogs.
After years of being a wife and mom, complete with company picnics and fundraisers for the P.T.A., Robin found herself starting over when her husband of fifteen years suddenly passed away. With no particular skills to speak of other than making killer chili con queso, Robin took the advice of friends and family, and followed her heart and passion for writing into the publishing world.
A fan of paranormal and southern romance novels, Robin does her best to offer up a plethora of tasty morsels to satisfy her readers’ appetite. Whether mainstream and/or paranormal erotic romance or Tyler’s LGBT romance line, Robin strives to create characters who are endearing and relatable.
Adversity is Robin’s motivation, which explains why she’s a true believer that grey hair is simply God’s graffiti.

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Kiru Taye visits the blog on her tour with, Black Soul, paranormal romance


***OUT NOW***
 Black Soul 

Author: +Kiru Taye, Author 

Series: Black Warriors, Prequel




He will damn his soul to set hers free.

When workaholic high-flying career lawyer Tara Woji takes a well deserved break and meets up with old friends she doesn’t realise the danger lurking in the shadows for her.
M’na is a chi, a gatekeeper whose duty is to protect the humans. He's lived more than a millennium waiting for Tara and is unable to do more than just watch her.
As the shadows deepen and darkness comes to claim her, he will do whatever it takes to protect her including doing the one thing he shouldn’t, releasing her powers.







Read an excerpt:
In a flash of motion, he growled and stood before her, pulling her close till her body lay flush against his hard contour. On contact, the temperature of the air around them rose. His lips descended on hers for the second time that night.
This time, the sensations were not a blur. She felt him in every pore of her body, soaking in his aura, her body and mind overwhelmed by exciting sensations. The familiarity and recognition returned, along with the desire to have him inside her, filling her up. Memories of the two of them together flooded her mind.
Connected, she sensed more than his memories. His emotions wrapped around her mind like a swirling thread, connecting light, desire, and elation. Yet, in the depth of his mind, darkness, rage, and remorse lurked.
Her arousal increased. She clung to his muscular arms, her hardened nipples rubbing against his chest. Despite the clothes between them, it felt as if skin stroked skin. Her core pulsed. His hand cupped her behind, pulling her in to feel his rigidity between her thighs.
Feverish sensation coursed through her body, swamping every pore. She writhed in his arms, her body undulating uncontrollably. He broke the kiss, focused attention on her neck and sucked her skin.
"Oh!" Colors exploded around her, the orgasm ripped out of her body violently, blowing her mind.
He pulled away, leaving her panting as the energy arc surrounding them subsided.
"You…you've got to stop doing that," she said as soon as she could catch her breath, wondering how she could respond so instantly and explosively to this man she didn't know.

"It's the only way I can get you to see the truth about us. What we've always been. What we can become again."


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Magic today from guest Susan Squires and her new release, 'Night Magic' #paranormal romance #giveaway

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DESTINY ISN’T CALLING. Kemble Tremaine is thirty-seven. He knows he’ll never get magic like the rest of his family. The Merlin gene has passed him by. No true love, no magic power to help the family in their fight against the descendants of Morgan Le Fay. Since it doesn’t matter who he marries, he asks his sister’s best friend, Jane. At least he’ll be rescuing her from a horrible home life.
CINDERELLA MISSES THE BALL. Jane Butler has loved Kemble since she was twelve years old. She’s well aware he’s not marrying her for love, but she hopes she can make him comfortable.
Night-Magic-eBook-Full-resolutionHAPPINESS IS RELATIVE. Comfort isn’t on the menu for the Tremaines. Kemble’s sister has been having visions of tragedy. The family finds one of Merlin’s precious artifacts, meant to increase the power of those with magic. Morgan and her Clan want it too. They can’t be far behind. Can Kemble and Jane find destiny in the face of danger and even death?

   



Read an excerpt

Kemble strode around the car without a word, got behind the wheel and slammed the door. His lips were a thin, determined line. Then he seemed to see her for the first time. “Jane, that…that cheek looks really painful.” His face contorted with an angry look. “I should have been over here first thing this morning.” He was angry with himself, of course. “I could have gone to the doctor if I needed to, you know,” she said. He snorted. “You never want anything for yourself, Jane. I’ll take care of that too.” What did he mean by that? The motor purred to life and Kemble put his arm over the back of her seat to turn and look out the rear window as he backed out. His fingers brushed her shoulder. She closed her eyes as the sensation shot up her spine. Did he have to be so careless? As they turned onto Palos Verdes West she glanced over to him. He was fairly vibrating with…nervous tension? Determination? She couldn’t quite figure it out. He surprised her by sliding into the little shopping center behind the Admiral Risty, an old-school, red-booth dinner place with a wide-water view of the Pacific. “Aren’t you going to be late for dinner at home?” “Yes, I am.” He nodded his head convulsively. The man was sweating. “You want to loosen the tie or something?” He really looked like he was about to choke. “No.” He took a big breath and let it out slowly. Then he turned to her. “I have something I want to ask you, Jane. And I don’t want you to say anything until I’m done explaining.” “Uh. Okay.” Jane was getting a very bad feeling about this. It was going to be something about what he wanted to do with her mother. She just knew it. And she wouldn’t be able to accept his largesse, so he’d try to bully her into it. He looked out over the parked cars. “I’m never going to get magic. I talked to Senior and he agrees. We think the gene is recessive in me. I’ve known it for a while.” She started to protest, but he held up a hand. It was shaking a little. That stopped her far more effectively than anything he could have said. He wasn’t the kind of guy to tremble. “So.” He acted as though that settled everything. “So he agrees that I ought to get on with my life. Settle down. And if I’m not waiting for the bolt of lightning, well, then I can marry whomever I want. So I’m asking you.” Jane felt like she’d been struck deaf, dumb and blind by that lightning bolt. Kemble was… asking her to… marry him? After all these years, he’d realized he loved her… “Now don’t say no,” he rushed on. “Just because we’re not in love doesn’t mean this can’t work out. You need a refuge Jane, and if we marry, I can give that to you.” Jane carefully shut her mouth, though that didn’t mean she could breathe. Kemble looked down at his hands, still on the steering wheel. “The family already loves you. And I’ll make sure your mother is taken care of. Enough money cures everything, Jane, and if it’s one thing I have, it’s money.” His eyes were so earnest it might break her heart. He’d given up. So he might as well marry her. Something heavy sat on her chest. He got an anxious look. “So…uh…what do you think?” She hardly trusted herself to speak. “Oh. Wait.” He lifted his hips to get his hand into the pocket of his slacks, and drew out a small square velveteen box. It said the name of the department store at the top of the hill on the bottom. He fumbled with it until he got it right side up and popped it open. A diamond ring gleamed in the rosy light of the setting sun. The setting was simple, just a band with three medium diamonds set in it. They glinted in the afternoon light. “I didn’t think you’d want one of those big diamonds that are always catching on everything. These… these are nice stones though.” He cleared his throat. It was actually just the kind of ring she would want the man she loved to give her. But not like this. She took a breath. “Kemble, you don’t want to marry me.” It took all the courage she had to speak those words. “But I do,” he protested. “You’re perfect. You’re smart. You’re a calming influence on the family, especially the younger ones.” His voice softened. “And marrying me will give you a place, Jane. Let me take care of you.” She couldn’t marry Kemble when he didn’t love her. That would be too selfish. He put the box with the ring on the dashboard and took both her hands in his larger ones. After the shock that went straight to her groin and the points of her breasts, what she noticed was that the warmth, the slight moisture born of his anxiety, enveloped her with his inherent goodness. She felt…maybe not loved, but at least treasured. “I need you, Jane,” he said. “And I think you need me too. Sometimes life just provides solutions we aren’t expecting.” The words were simple, spoken from his heart. He needed her. It was the one ploy that might get her to agree to this. She couldn’t bear how unhappy he’d been lately. Maybe this solution freed him from the razor-sharp pain of wondering if magic would ever happen for him, thinking he’d never be good enough. She wanted to believe that, because suddenly, she wanted to throw all sense and caution off the cliffs at the Breakers and accept him. Married to Kemble Tremaine, just as she’d dreamed since she was fourteen. A real member of the Tremaine family, with a right to make tira misu for their dinner or cut fresh flowers for the table. There was another problem. “What if you find your destined love after we’re married?” “Never going to happen.” He shrugged as though it didn’t matter to him. But in his blue eyes she saw that it did. He wasn’t over mourning his loss yet. But maybe someday he could be. Maybe time would heal his regret. Maybe they could have something together, if not true love, then companionship, respect. That was more than she was like to have any other way. “You have to promise me something, Kemble Tremaine.” “Anything.” He didn’t mean that, of course. He couldn’t give her the one thing she really wanted. And God, he was so close to her, he was overwhelming any sense she had at all. “Promise that if you ever do find the one really meant for you, you’ll tell me. I’ll set you free the next moment with no regrets.” Well, none she wouldn’t have anyway, whether she married him or not. She’d always regret he didn’t love her. His brows drew together sharply. He really hadn’t thought this out, had he? Finally he nodded. “Okay.” He cleared his throat. “Does that mean you will do me the honor of being my wife?” God help her. She nodded.
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About the author:
NYT Bestselling author Susan Squires published twenty-two novels and novellas with Dorchester Publishing and St. Martin’s Press, as well as self-publishing her new Magic Series. She’s won the Golden Heart and the Holt Medallion, been a finalist in the Rita contest and garnered several Reviewer’s Choice awards from Romantic Times BookReviews. Publisher’s Weekly named Body Electric one of the most influential mass-market books and One with the Shadows a Best Book of Year. She lives at the beach in Southern California with her husband, who is also a writer, and two Belgian Sheepdogs who help her by laying their chins on the keyboardddddddd.
 
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Highland Burn from guest author Victoria Zak

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Will Love’s Flame Quench the Dragon’s Fire? …

The past never stays in the past, it rears its ugly head eventually. James the Black Douglas knows this all too well. With a past that has left him vengeful and his dragon blood thirsty, his reputation as a ruthless warrior haunts his enemies in their sleep. As his allegiance stands with Robert Bruce, the King of Scotland, he must now repay a debt to the king and agrees to marry his daughter, Abigale Bruce. The problem is he doesn’t want a wife. When flames start to burn out of control between him and the auburn-haired lass, he must decide to either kindle the flames of passion or shelter her from the truth and set her free.

It’s What Shines in the Dark That Brings Forth Your True Light…

Determined to keep his daughter safe and out of the hands of the English, Robert hides Abigale behind the safe walls of a nunnery. After eight long years of living her life in seclusion, Abigale is finally set free. But her new found freedom comes to an abrupt halt when she learns of her betrothal to the infamous Bogeyman – James the Black Douglas. She soon finds herself falling in love with the uncontainable and haunted man. Is her love enough to soften his hardened heart?

  Highland Burn - Book Cover

Read an excerpt

Chapter one

“Fergus, the water is verra refreshing. Why don’t ye join me?” The white stallion inhaled deeply then snorted, as he ate from a patch of lush green grass. “Well, ye dinnae have to be rude about it.” Long white hair with streaks of gray fell over his muscled neck as the fine steed shook his head and stomped his hoof. He pulled on a blade of grass, indicating that he was perfectly content grazing near the loch’s edge. A slight giggle escaped her mouth as she splashed at her horse. Abigale Bruce had ridden hard and fast through the glen most of the morn. Since her father’s recent successful victory over the English at the battle of Bannockburn, Abigale had been freed from the nunnery. Her excitement of finally being able to explore her new-found freedom was too much to hold back as she charged through the forest. Now she rewarded Fergus with a patch of grass while she cooled off in the loch. Oh how she cherished these moments; they were few and far between. Eight long years at Dunfermline Abbey wasn’t the ideal place to grow up, but she had no choice in the matter. Her father, Robert the Bruce, King of Scotland, had placed her there in order to keep her safe from his enemy, the English. Throughout her time at the Abbey, King Edward, the King of England, had gotten close to capturing her a few times, but the small secretive community of nuns had held true to their oath and kept her hidden well. Unhappy about the newly crowned King of Scotland, the English had captured Abigale’s step-mother, half-sister, and her two aunts, and had also beheaded three of her uncles. Humiliated, held prisoner behind iron bars of a bird cage, and hung from the Tower of London had been the women’s fate. Even though her freedom was taken away, Abigale knew it was nothing compared to what they had endured. Abigale’s trouble had started as soon as she walked through the gates of the abbey. Robert Bruce had given Dunfermline Abbey a generous contribution to repair part of the church that had been attacked by King Edward. In return he requested that Abbot Benard take his daughter in and protect her. With such a gracious amount of coin given, the Abbot could not refuse. Therefore Abigale, at the wee age of ten, had been left at the abbey and placed in the cruel hands of Abbess Margaret. Since Abbess Margaret was in charge of twelve nuns, she declared she had not the time to look after the wee brat, so she left Sister Kate in charge of Abigale. Abbess Margaret was a beautiful middle-aged woman with short, raven hair, and possessed the ability to inflict the cruelest of punishments. She watched and waited for Abigale to slip up so she could take pleasure in punishing her. Abigale knew why the woman hated her; she was jealous and thought it unfair that she had special treatment just because she was the king’s daughter. Abigale was afforded a few exceptions to the rules. Because of her lack of interest in taking the vow to become a nun, she didn’t have to cut her hair like the other sisters. Furthermore, she could marry, and own property. Although there was one rule that had to be followed; she had to be obedient. And Abbess Margaret took great pride in punishing a disobedient Abigale. Sending Abigale on a daily pee pot cleaning always seemed to make the corners of her thin lips twitch. “Ye’re no princess, a bastart child who her own father has abandoned." After a few missed visits from her father and daily tongue lashings from Abbess Margaret, Abigale started to feel pushed aside and abandoned, yet her spirit held firm. Sister Kate had kept a watchful eye on Abigale, keeping her work-load full so she would stay out of trouble, but trouble seemed to follow her wherever she went as if she was born into it. Abbey life wasn’t the life for her. She grew to hate the prayer bells, for they rang eight times during the day starting at the wee hours of night. The blasted bell would ring either when she was sound asleep or assisting a monk in surgery. More times than not she was late to prayer and being tardy was frowned upon. The consequences were harsh, in fact they were harsher than falling asleep during worship. Abigale knew this all too well; she had fallen asleep in a choir stall one night. Sister Kate had been the circator that night, pacing up and down the aisle as she shined her bright cresset lamp into the stalls checking if anyone had fallen asleep. A sharp point with a stick to her ribcage had woken Abigale up quickly. Of course she got a rap on the legs for that one. Thank God it was Sister Kate, for she showed her mercy. Now that she was home, her father was more than ever adamant about keeping his family safe. He vowed to never allow another Bruce woman to be captured by the filthy Sassenach. Just as Abigale thought she’d regained her freedom, here she was once again with it ripped away from her by an arranged marriage to her father’s first in command. Who better to protect her than the Bogeyman himself? Trepidation crept over her, sending a shiver through her body as she thought about the man her father had arranged for her betrothal. “The Black Douglas,” she thought. A man with a reputation that would make the Devil himself shudder with fear. A ruthless warrior who had fought in many battles with her father. The English feared him terribly, making up nursery rhymes warning their wee bairns to “hush before the Black Douglas will get ye”. She’d never met the man before, but the deal was done. Her father had arranged the marriage and Abigale was to abide by his orders. Abigale turned to Fergus who was chewing on a blade of grass. “At least ye don’t have to marry the Bogeyman.” She shuddered. Saying it out loud made it all too real. For a moment she wondered just what the Black Douglas would look like. Could her father be so cruel as to wed her to an evil, battle-worn old man? Nay, who could possibly be scared of an old man? Then again, a warrior’s reputation lived on even after death. Or mayhap he really was a monster of some sort, a mythical creature of the night that lurked under your bed waiting to nip at your heels. Abigale was letting her imagination get the best of her. Shaking those thoughts from her head she dipped down into the coolness of the loch, washing away every bit of worry. Today was her day and she was going to enjoy the peace that the loch gave her before it was taken away from her. Coming back up she lay her body out flat to float on top of the water’s surface. Her light linen shift clung to her petite body, long dark auburn hair spread out and floated with the ripples of the water. Closing her eyes, she opened her arms out wide allowing her fears to fall from her body and sink to the bottom of the loch. A snapping of twigs alerted Abigale that she wasn’t alone. Quickly she dipped her body down into the water to hide from what was lurking in the woods. Panic pricked up her spine as she searched the glen’s wooded edge for some kind of movement. Nothing… no movement at all. It must be a small animal frolicking through the thicket. Another snap. This time it sounded too close and too loud to be a small animal. Abigale turned and faced Fergus. Ears pointing in the direction of the snapping sound, Fergus let out a gut deep neigh. “Ye heard that too?” she whispered, trying not to draw attention to herself. Abigale slowly moved toward the water’s edge, not making a sound. The last thing she needed was to be attacked by a wild animal or worst yet… a rogue Highlander. Dripping wet and cold, Abigale stepped out of the water and headed straight for the huge boulder covered in green moss where her dress and her dirk lay. If instincts had taught her anything, it was to never let your guard down and never leave home without your dirk. A third snap sounded like it came from behind her and way too close. Taking a steady breath, she grabbed her dirk and spun around to meet her attacker face to face. Lunging the blade forward she pointed it at his throat, the tip inches away from piercing it. “Och lass, I will no hurt ye.” A massive six-foot-four man with vibrant amber eyes stood before her with his hands up in surrender. Abigale arched a dark brow over deep blue eyes. “How do I know I can trust ye?” “I have no weapons on me… frisk me if ye dinnae believe me.” With a sly grin he turned around with his arms in the air inviting her eyes to gaze upon every inch of his muscular body. Abigale took him up on his offer, for she could not will her eyes off him if she tried. Following his every move, her body became alive. Her hands began to itch as she thought about running them down the corded muscles that lined his abdomen. Hulking arms shimmered in the sunrays as if they had been kissed by the sun and she wondered how his arms would feel wrapped around her body. As he turned around, long black hair hung over his big broad shoulders and stopped at his shoulder blades. His lower back tapered in to a firm backside which was covered in a black and gray plaid. Funny… she had a sudden urge to squeeze his buttocks. God could not have forged a more perfect man, she thought. Being ten-and-eight, innocent, and sheltered behind the walls of the nunnery, she hadn’t had much of a chance to explore the ways of men. In fact if she wasn’t praying, she was in the infirmary mending men severely wounded from battle, or ill. Sister Kate’s nagging voice reminded her that “Ye only have room for one man in yer heart and He would never steer ye wrong.” Only if Sister Kate could see this man standing before her now, even she would blush. “Ye should no be sneaking up on me like that.” Abigale lowered the dirk, but still kept her grip tight. The alluring man crossed his massive arms in front of his bare chest. “I was taking a rest while out riding when I saw ye over here. Ye know a bonny young lass like yerself should no be oot alone without an escort.” “I can take care of myself just fine.” “Aye, I can see that.” He rubbed his throat. She stood shivering from the cold or mayhap from the intensity of his gaze; she needed to retrieve her clothes before she caught her death. Then she remembered that she was wearing a thin shift. Surely he could see right through to her naked body? Quickly with her free hand she tried to cover her breasts and still have some dignity. “Would ye kindly turn around now so I can dress?" She motioned with the dirk for him to turn around. He turned, giving her privacy to dress. “That’s a fine horse ye have there,” he said over his shoulder. Abigale finished dressing and began to smooth the wrinkles out from her dress with her hands. “That’s Fergus, he’s a gift from my da. A true warhorse." Of the few times her father had come to visit her at the abbey, and there were only a few, she remembered the day when he had brought Fergus to her as a gift. A gift perhaps but more like a peace offering for being absent for over a year. Abigale forgave her father, and the white charger quickly became more than a horse, he was a friend. “Ye may turn around now.” As Abigale glanced up, her heart skipped a beat as amber eyes pierced her, sending a rush of heat through her body. She licked her lips and struggled to swallow past a dry throat. How could this man, who she had never met before, make her hunger for something that she had not yet had? Feeling uneasy, she broke their stare and quickly searched for her shoes. “Are ye a Highlander?” What kind of a question was that? Of course he was a Highlander… that was a plaid he wore. Way to go, Abigale Bruce, he must think I’m a real dunderhead. “Why do ye ask?” “That is a plaid ye wear? “Abigale leaned against the boulder and bent down to slip her shoes on.” “Aye.” “Then ye must be a Highlander.” Indeed the ways of Highlanders were much different from the English-influenced ways of lowland men like her father. Still both parties had fought for Scotland until the crown and riches were in their grasp. Some would say that greed was the root of all evil. Abigale thought differently. The crown was the root of all evil. Men fought for it, killed for it, and sold their souls for a taste of the crown and the power it held. The crown grew evil in men and she knew that all too well because it was her father's own greed for the crown that left her abandoned at the abbey. The unsettled nature of Scotland had left Abigale hardened. She’d seen firsthand the aftermath of battles fought; mended wounds, prayed over dead bodies, and even buried the dead. The nunnery where she grew up would set up tents to aid those wounded in battle. Abigale would assist in surgery and her passion grew for healing the sick and mending wounds. Life was to be valued, not destroyed. In a way she blamed Lady Scotland for her misfortunes. Her father’s growing need to fight for Scotland had caused her to stay hidden, conceal her true identity, and grow up without a family. Her whole family had been affected by the battles fought for Scotland and the greed of claiming the crown. Though it was true she had long forgiven the Lady; she could not forget. The Highlander seemed far away in thought, because he took a while to answer. “Some would say I’m a Highlander.” He approached Abigale. "May I?” The beautiful stranger reached for a piece of hair that was stuck to her face and tucked it behind her ear. He brushed a callused finger down her cheek to her slender neck leaving a fiery path trailing behind. He held her stare and captivated her to the point that she could not form a coherent thought. Her body was no longer hers to control, her heart dropped, and desire pooled in her core setting her body on fire. This Highlander was so close to her she could feel his breath on her skin, she could smell his masculine scent and soon she wanted to taste his lips. The mysterious man lowered his head, cupped his hand behind her neck, and pulled her close to him to claim her lips. Abigale drew in a deep breath in anticipation when suddenly a nudge from behind broke her trance. She turned to find Fergus. “Fergus!” she scolded. “What’s gotten into ye?" Another nudge by a wet gray muzzle almost sent Abigale to the ground until strong arms caught her around the waist. “I got ye lass,” he whispered in her ear. For some odd reason the deep rich tone of his voice soothed her. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and leaned back against the warmth of his body. Wait… what was she doing? Abigale Bruce, you are to be married. Quickly she slipped away from his hold and began to gather up the leather reins. “I should be getting back.” 

Highland Burn - Author PhotoAUTHOR BIO

Victoria Zak lives in the sunshine state with her husband, two beautiful children, and three furry friends. Before having kids, Victoria spent fifteen years in the veterinary business and volunteered in pet rescue.

“One of my most rewarding jobs was finding unwanted animals their forever homes.” A writing career was the last item listed on her bucket list, until she discovered that she wanted to put her stories on paper and breathe life into her characters. Her love for Scotland, curiosity of history, and passion for romance has inspired her to write her first book, Highland Burn.

“Fourteenth century Scotland was a fascinating time in history. Not only was Scotland fighting for their freedom from the English king, their own people fought each other; clan vs clan. Though being a woman of the twenty-first century, I wouldn’t want to live in those unsettled times. But writing historical fiction paranormal romance allows me to escape into their world and breathe a fresh air of romance and magic into that era, which I love to do.”

Victoria loves to hear from her readers. You can connect with her through FB, Twitter, G+, and her website.

AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE – WEBSITE / BLOG – FACEBOOK AUTHOR PAGE FACEBOOK PROFILE - TWITTER – GOOGLE+ - GOODREADS

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Tour Organized By: 1-MINIBUTTON

The Beginning, Witches of the Bayou, new release #Free read from Cherrie Mack and Evernight Publishing


First, I would like to thank my hostess for having me as a guest today. I am thrilled to be here.
My newest read is free, courtesy of Evernight Publishing. This paranormal romance is based on a character from A Late Summer Bloom. It occurred to me, Cecily Jareau, needed her story told. Why was she so jaded? What caused her to hate her royal coven? Why did she want to walk away from her power and her witchhood?
Because her story comes to a satisfying conclusion in A Late Summer Bloom, I thought it would be fun to go back, just a little and tell the story of how it all began. After all, don’t we all love to fall in love? That no holds barred, can’t keep our hands to ourselves, butterflies in the belly kinda love?
Yeah, me too. My hope is you take the time to download and read, The Beginning-Witches Of The Bayou and love it as much as I loved writing it.
((HUGS))
Cherrie Mack
The Beginning
Witches Of The Bayou
Free Read
Cherrie Mack
A young and powerful witch of royal birthright longs to be human. When she meets a human man who gives her the love she’s never known, her decision to renounce her heritage is an easy one. But, not everything is what it seems.

This exciting, short story is a prequel to ALate Summer Bloom—Witches Of The Bayou.
 Read an Excerpt from The Beginning

Cecily sat at Al’s House of Blue’s for the fifth night in a row. She sat in the same seat sipping the same drink and watching James play his trumpet. Having a date afterward had become a welcome routine. She was falling hard for the dashing, swoon-worthy musician and her libido had suddenly awakened from its life of hibernation. Wanting him on every level, not just physical, had her worried.
Did she dare to dream he felt the same way? He certainly gave off a territorial vibe when it came to her. And although being human was James’ advantage, it served as his drawback as well. The fact remained, she was a witch—a witch of royal status. The covens wouldn’t allow her to renounce her origins so easily.
She sighed. James hadn’t even kissed her yet and here she was thinking of a life outside the boundaries of magic.
“You look far away tonight. Everything okay?” James stood near, his aftershave soothing her anxiety.
“I’m fine.”
He pulled a chair up close to her and sat down, taking her hands in his. “No. You were thinking about something that made you sad. I could see it in your eyes.”
“And that bothers you?”
“It bothers me a great deal.”
She stared at his mouth, licking her lips. “Why?” And why haven’t you kissed me?
Without warning, swift and certain, James leaned in and kissed her lips. The contact surprised her, making her pull back. But as she leaned away, he leaned forward, not allowing her to move out of his reach. His lips claimed her, branding her with a fiery passion she never experienced. The crowd was no longer a consequence as she returned his affection. Their tongues entwined in a blistering exchange sending a mass of intense impulses bolting through her blood. 
The velvety texture of his mouth was more than she could stand. His tongue, hot and slick, moved in a sinuous rhythm, owning her, imprinting his being within her heart. This wasn’t a kiss—this was a declaration. And Cecily wanted more of it. When he pulled away, she felt exposed, like a raw bundle of nerves left unprotected in the smoky atmosphere.
Applause could be heard from behind her, the audience clapping at their display. The glorious feeling disappeared quickly when Cecily recognized Brigitte standing at the back of the room. James leaned over to whisper in her ear. “After this set is over—I wanna do that again.”
She gave him a nervous smile. “Yes. I’d like that. But right now, I need to use the powder room.” She fanned herself, gave him a wink and rose up on wobbly legs. When she headed for the ladies room she saw Brigitte fall in step behind her. 
After they waited for it to clear out, Brigitte leveled a stern look at her. “A human man? Really?”
Cecily stood with her hands on her hips. “James. His name is James. And yes I want a human man because ultimately, I want to be human.”
Brigitte’s eyes widened as if Cecily had committed the worst of sins. “They are unworthy. Not just of a witch but—but you? You have aristocratic blood in your veins. You can’t be serious.”
“Oh I’m serious. Neither you, nor Percy and his band of blue-blooded bullies are gonna change my mind.”
Brigitte’s facial features relaxed. “We’ll just see about that.” Cecily panicked. She’d been living as a human for over a week, performing no spells, no magic. She washed dishes and clothes and floors. She purchased food at the market, she cooked. And she was comfortable doing all of it. Now, about to embark on a human relationship, so close to a physical, loving connection, an obstacle was thrown in her path.
Just like always. Her life was one big hurdle after another.  Happiness was a breath away and once again she was faced with a complication she never saw coming. That kiss should have been one of her happiest moments but was ruined by the mere presence of another of her kind. 
 *** 

About the Author:

Cherrie Mack is a multi-published romance author who grew up in Flushing Queens NY, the youngest child of six. The city’s diversity gave her a great appreciation for many different cultures and lifestyles. After love finally claimed the girl from the city and dragged her to the suburban madness of Long Island, she settled into a quiet life with her new husband. Two children and one mini-van later, the family found themselves moving towards the sunny skies of Florida where they currently reside. When she isn't writing, she is busy chasing her children around, laughing with her husband, struggling to learn meditation and hanging out with her best friend--a mutt named Bailey.

Over the last year, Cherrie has continued to flourish, writing contemporary erotic romance, romantic comedy, urban fantasy and her latest, paranormal romance. Her ability to cross genre's fuels her imagination and gives her the desire to continue to push her boundaries and branch out as a writer. Although she hasn't settled into any given sub-genre, she is confident her ability will lead her down the right path.

A member of Romance Writers of America, Cherrie is slowly spreading her wings as a romance author. Look for her books at all digital bookstores such as Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Bookstrand, ITunes, Nook, Kobo and many more.




Creator of Shadows, book #3 in the Scarlet Rain Series, releases today, welcome Miranda Stork, #paranormalromance

The third book in the Scarlet Rain Series is finally out! Creator of Shadows is out today, and continues the journey of the immortals, as they battle against Feoran and the darker forces behind him. Read on to find out more!


When Lorenna is kidnapped by Feoran, the head of the vampyric Clan, it’s a dent in the Resistance. While she was expecting his twisted advances to her, she didn’t expect to feel something for him in return.
But that’s the least of her problems.
The city is more in ruins than ever, the Cuans being cut off one by one to prevent the rebellious humans taking over any part of New London. And after the discovery made at the Factory, armies of clones now walk the streets, ready to kill and trained viciously by their vampire masters.
The rebels must band together in full force, both to rescue their beloved witch from Feoran’s clutches, and to give the final push against the Clan. But a traitor in the heart of their inner circle is plotting with a vampire who wants more than they have, threatening to bring everything they have worked for tumbling down around them.
Can Lorenna gain her freedom to help her friends, and can they finally cut the head off the serpent that is the Clan? Or will humanity forever remain in its iron grip?




Where can I get a copy?


Where can I find out more about the author?

Release day for 'Jude,' the second book in 'The Fallen Series' from authors Tara S Wood and Lorecia Goings



It’s been a long wait over the past year, but we can finally come down off our tenterhooks and breathe a sigh of relief. Jude, the second of The Fallen Series, is here! Pick it up and see where Jude’s journey takes us!



Blurb

Six angels once sat at the right hand of The Almighty, but an ill-fated decision cast them out of Heaven. Now they serve Him on Earth, slaying demons for their redemption. They are…The Fallen.

“Remember, angel, all ways in the end return to Me.”

Jude knows pain. He feels it with every inhale and exhale of breath. It is a constant on his mind and on his skin; a reminder of the depth of his disobedience. And his cruelty. With his fall from grace, he walks the Earth with his brothers, their steps set on a shadowed path to redemption, killing demons in His name. The angel of Vengeance may not have his wings, but he still burns.

Coriander Rhodes finds things. The intrepid little archaeologist sniffs out relics buried for eternity with the determination of a bloodhound and the arrogance of the devil. Her brash nature and bold tongue keep the big angel on his toes, inflaming and infuriating him at the same time.

When danger strikes at the heart of the angels’ inner circle, Jude discovers he is faced with a task far greater than he has ever known. The light must be protected at all costs, in all of its forms. The ultimate evil has a plan, and with the most innocent among them at stake, Jude knows he’ll finally have to face his sins and meet the pain in his soul dead on. Coriander’s touch is the only thing that soothes, but is it enough to make him whole? Can she help him work through the pain long enough to remember his faith, or will he be forever…fallen?



Jude in all his glory!


Excerpt

Jude stared at the blinding white of the bathroom tiles, gleaming back at him with their pristine cleanliness. There was a reason he was here, a reason he stood at the threshold of the doorway with the small blade in his hand. It was a steely and dangerous little thing he’d nicked from Elijah as soon as they got here. He missed the obsidian dagger. He hadn’t realized how much. The Almighty had seen fit to take it and transform it into a demon-killing sword that belonged in the hands of Lucius. Now it was gone. Much like its previous owner, lost to him in every way. Coriander belonged to the dark-haired Alex and the little girl. He didn’t belong to anyone.

The tremor started in his foot and worked its way up his leg, urging him to take the step into the bathroom, but he could not make it move. His vision warped and tunneled outward, and the bathroom rippled, beckoning him to breach the door jamb. Seeing her walk through the door had ripped open every wound he thought had healed. And even though she had made it perfectly clear she wanted nothing to do with him when she left, there was the tiny, hidden part of him that held on to the memory of his lips on hers. Because there had been no pain.

Everything hurt. All the time. Touch was agony. But when his lips met hers, the expected jolt never came. She had been hot and sweet, and the release from the pain had been instant, snuffed out like a candle. And when she shot him, it all came back. If he were honest with himself, he could admit to being grateful for the slug to the leg. He was so used to the constant and ever-present ache in his body and bones, and the sudden reprieve at Coriander’s kiss had thrown him for a loop. The gunshot simply grounded him.

Now she was back in his life, all guns and fire and fierce beauty, with a boyfriend and kid in tow. And here he was, back in this never-ending ritual of pleasure-pain that kept him in a perpetual vacillation between guilt and despair.

No. He was done with this. Never again.

Jude dropped the blade to clatter on the tile floor of the bathroom and turned on his heel. There were other ways to deal with this problem. It was time to drink.



Where do I find out more about the authors?

Tara Stogner Wood







Lorecia Goings






And where do I get my hands on Jude?

Amazon.com Ebook – (no link yet, will send closer to the date)


Amazon.co.uk Ebook - (no link yet, will send closer to the date)