Sunday, September 30, 2012

'The Dragon's Fall' Event on October 5th

Check out the upcoming event for The Dragon's Fall, hosted by Release Day Diva!

The Dragon's Fall

In a thoughtless final act of destruction, humans awaken the one creature of legend they have no protection against. Years after the complete subjugation of the human race, Derek, heir of the Dragon Queen, and Cecily, create a tentative friendship. But something or someone is stalking the human enclave. Cecily and Derek must find out who and why before she's next.







 Join us on Facebook this Friday, October 5th from 4-8 pm PST. We'll have tons of games and prizes. You don't want to miss this dragon themed event!!!


 Enter the rafflecopter below to win a signed copy of the book!


  a Rafflecopter giveaway




Hope to see you all there!!








Brought to you by the Release Day Diva


Saturday, September 29, 2012

'The Accidental Don' Book Tour & Giveaway

 


Welcome to 'The Accidental Don' book tour! Check out more information about this book and enter the $25 Amazon gift card giveaway below!

Title: The Accidental Don

Author - Guy J. Tirondola

Date Published: 3/2012

Synopsis:

Locals in a small southern coastal village come to fear Donato De Luca, the stranger who has settled among them, whom they wrongly surmise to be a Mafia don. Donato, a bar owner from Newark, on the run, falsely accused of stealing money from the mob, uses his new-found evil identity as a force for good, combating hatred, bigotry, superstition, and finally confronting the mob boss who has arrived to kill him. Donato’s journey reveals that some men are born wicked, some men achieve wickedness, and some men have wickedness thrust upon them.

Purchase Links:



Author Bio:

Award-winning short-story writer was raised in Newark, NJ, and summered in Beaufort, SC.  He is a denizen of city streets and salt marshes.  This cultural mélange informs his writing sensibilities.  He brings an insider’s perspective to THE ACCIDENTAL DON
 
 Contact Links:





a Rafflecopter giveaway

Excerpt from "Saint Theresa" by Andi Caldwell in 'If"

Andi Caldwell, and several other members of the Circle 8 Writers group, have been Facebook friends with me for a few years now. This talented group of writers has put together many anthologies of their collected short stories. Check out an excerpt from the story "Saint Theresa" by Andi.


Book Blurb:

The stories of If:

Amy Browne: "And So It Begins: the Birth of Paisley" Short (Paisley)story: The kingdom rejoices at the birth of a new princess. If only grandma had been more careful, the baby would not have floated up, up and away.

Andi Caldwell: "Saint Theresa" Short Story: Theresa had something in common with her namesake Saint Theresa: seeking terrible vengeance on those closest to her. If only she had known then what she knows now--that the saint was no saint in her young life, either.

Angel Sharum: "As If You Cared" Short story: If Robert hadn’t been so alienated by his wife’s manic depression, maybe the cure wouldn’t have proved so deadly.

"If You’d Only Listened" Short story: Nobody ever listened to Will, not his mother, not even his best friend Dale—NOBODY! If they had, maybe Will wouldn’t have decided it’s time for Judgement Day.

"I’m Sorry" Flash story: Sorry, Charlie.

"I Want You Back" Flash fiction: If only Nathan would’ve washed his own dirty shirts.

LL Darroch: "Artemis Unbound" Short story: A scarlet ribbon always around her neck. Oh, dear, if poor Henry had only known or had guessed why his beloved never took it off.

"The Bracelet" Short story: If Mattie can only conjure up fake spirits, how can one that keeps taunting her with a bracelet prove to be too real.

"UserError" Flash fiction: If you’re going to use a computer to cheat, don’t drink coffee.

“Green Cheese” Flash Fiction: Green Cheese: What if the moon really was made of green cheese?

"Fortress" Poetry: If the past is a dead thing, should a tombstone marks its grave?

Brittany Joy Chadwick "IF" Short story: If Frank could only believe in his Imaginary Friend.

Robert L. Arend "Snow Globe Short story: If only Ralph hadn’t been so ambitious, greedy and selfish, he and his family might not be homeless and struggling to survive the harsh Philadelphia winter. If only he could change their present by changing his past.

"The Andre Peterson Conspiracy" Short Story: If Sirhan Sirhan didn’t kill Robert F. Kennedy, who did? Time will tell.

Read an excerpt of "Saint Theresa"
When the doorbell rang, the last thing Theresa had expected were two policemen looking for her mother. When she told them she wasn’t home, they asked if they could wait. She had called her father and told him to come home. Since he owned the gas station around the corner from the house, he was home in ten minutes. One of the policemen started asking her questions. Still after so many years had come and gone, Theresa shook her head at the memory of how innocent she had been. When her mother had finally come home, the policemen arrested her. It had sounded like a television show.

“Mary Copeland, you are under arrest for having unlawful sexual relations with a minor. You are entitled to an attorney…” he said.

But it hadn’t been a television show. Her father had blustered and argued, but the police took her mother away. When she asked for an explanation, all he would mutter was, “Patrick, she’s been sleeping with Patrick.” Then he had gone to the cupboard and taken out the whiskey bottle.
Buy links: Kindle | Paperback

About Andi Caldwell:


Andi Caldwell has been writing short stories as long as she has been reading them. She is also a freelance writer and a teacher of special education students. She lives with her husband, two daughters and two cats.
 

Thursday, September 27, 2012

'Sierra' by Taylor Dean - Book Tour

 
 
Welcome to the virtual book tour for Sierra by Taylor Dean! Learn more about this touching novel and then enter the Rafflecopter below!
 
Romantic Suspense

Date Published: 6/13/12

Synopsis: 
 
Alyssa Fontaine’s life, loved ones—everything familiar and dear—are brutally taken from her.

Taken captive by two men, she endures a horrific nightmare. A new life is forced upon her and even a new name.

Just when it appears that no hope is in sight, she is saved by an unlikely twist of fate. Trapped in the beautiful Sierra Nevada Mountains, life will open its arms to her again and she will embrace it. She will find love such as she never knew existed. 
 

Sierra is a heart-wrenching story of the power of the human spirit to survive amidst impossible circumstances and severe losses. It is a story of survival . . . and hope. 

Read an excerpt:
Stay strong, Alyssa. Another opportunity for escape will come, you just have to wait for it. And yet, she wondered if she would live through the next day.
It wasn’t a matter of being lost in the woods, it was a matter of being totally, and utterly, lost.
WE HAVE TA find our community today. We’re out of food,” Pa said at lunch as they ate the last of the granola bars. “I know wur close.”
As they hiked, Adam walked behind her and pushed her every time she slowed down. They were all slow today. He never walked behind her. The trip was getting to all of them.
Alyssa felt as though she could simply lie down and die. Her pain, which had been significant, seemed to have diminished into a dull, anesthetized feeling that enveloped her. Maybe this is what death feels like—a sluggish, agonizing death, that is, she thought numbly.
As they hiked down the mountain through a heavily wooded area, a deluge of rain descended upon them. They did not stop or seek any shelter, they hiked right through it. The noise of the storm hid the fact that Alyssa sobbed out loud. The moisture hid her tears. She didn’t even try to rein it in—she just let it out and was glad for the cover of the storm. Lightning and thunder roared around them and still they walked. Pa was sure the community was just below them.
Alyssa knew that life—as she knew it—was over.
Her fate was to be with Adam.
The thought set in and her heart sank. She couldn’t remember ever being so terrified in her entire life.
It soon became obvious they were nowhere near their precious community, however. Pa cursed and yelled in a fit of temper. They were all hungry and tired. When they stopped for breaks, Alyssa fell asleep each time, hardly able to hold herself in an upright position.
 That evening as they walked through an area dense with pine trees and foliage, to their surprise, they came across a cabin in the woods. Pa and Adam stood in the trees staring at it. It was obviously occupied. Smoke wafted out of the chimney, the smell of fresh bread was in the air, and the tinkle of music could be heard if you strained your ear.
As Alyssa's eyes alighted upon the cabin for the first time, she thought perhaps she was dreaming. It was like seeing a mirage in the desert. It couldn’t be real—the sight, the sound, the smell. It was . . . charming. She was seeing things. It must be her imagination. After all, who lived up here in the middle of nowhere? But if she was seeing things that weren’t really there, then so were Adam and Pa.
They decided to pay the occupant a visit and cautiously began the walk up to the door of the cabin. Alyssa suddenly felt like Dorothy along withtwo cowardly lions approaching the wizard. The cautious music from the movie played in her befuddled brain.
Yep, she was losing it.
Puffs of smoke shot out of the chimney and she wondered if Adam would turn around and run.
Maybe the wizard would grant her deepest wish.
Freedom . . .
 
**My thoughts**

When I saw that a book by Taylor Dean was available for review through Reading Addiction Book Tours, I knew I had to jump on it. I greatly enjoyed her book Lancaster House, which I reviewed several weeks ago. I am glad that I picked up this one, as well.

This story feels highly unlikely, yet makes for a wonderful escape. I had a hard time pulling myself away from it to get other things done. Even being aware of what the plot entailed, I still felt myself being emotionally pulled into the fear, sadness and despair that both Alex and Alyssa are dealing with. Some of the plot points are predictable, but then there are some big twists in their story that I didn't quite see coming. Perhaps other people will. They still tugged at my heartstrings, almost bringing me to tears at a couple of points. The intense feelings and emotions felt by the characters sometimes feel like they are over-dramatized. Sure, to a "normal" person, it may be that way. But we have never been in the kinds of situations that these characters find themselves. Psychologists would say their reactions are normal. I found myself almost imagining how I would respond in such a situation.

Sierra is a nice departure from all of the popular paranormal that is out there right now. I do enjoy those books, but it was nice to have something a little different. I continue to enjoy Taylor Dean's work and will look out for even more in the future.

Author Bio:

Taylor Dean lives in Texas and is the mother of four grown children. Upon finding herself with an empty nest, she began to write the stories that were always wandering around in her head, quickly finding that she had a passion for writing, specifically romance. Whether it’s paranormal, contemporary, or suspense—you’ll find all sub-genres of romance in her line-up. 
Website         Facebook  
Twitter - @taylordeanbooks
 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

'Sierra' by Taylor Dean Book Tour - Review



Romantic Suspense

Date Published: 6/13/12

Synopsis: 

Alyssa Fontaine’s life, loved ones—everything familiar and dear—are brutally taken from her.

Taken captive by two men, she endures a horrific nightmare. A new life is forced upon her and even a new name.

Just when it appears that no hope is in sight, she is saved by an unlikely twist of fate. Trapped in the beautiful Sierra Nevada Mountains, life will open its arms to her again and she will embrace it. She will find love such as she never knew existed.

Sierra is a heart-wrenching story of the power of the human spirit to survive amidst impossible circumstances and severe losses. It is a story of survival . . . and hope.

Read an excerpt:

Stay strong, Alyssa. Another opportunity for escape will come, you just have to wait for it. And yet, she wondered if she would live through the next day.
It wasn’t a matter of being lost in the woods, it was a matter of being totally, and utterly, lost.
WE HAVE TA find our community today. We’re out of food,” Pa said at lunch as they ate the last of the granola bars. “I know wur close.”
As they hiked, Adam walked behind her and pushed her every time she slowed down. They were all slow today. He never walked behind her. The trip was getting to all of them.
Alyssa felt as though she could simply lie down and die. Her pain, which had been significant, seemed to have diminished into a dull, anesthetized feeling that enveloped her. Maybe this is what death feels like—a sluggish, agonizing death, that is, she thought numbly.
As they hiked down the mountain through a heavily wooded area, a deluge of rain descended upon them. They did not stop or seek any shelter, they hiked right through it. The noise of the storm hid the fact that Alyssa sobbed out loud. The moisture hid her tears. She didn’t even try to rein it in—she just let it out and was glad for the cover of the storm. Lightning and thunder roared around them and still they walked. Pa was sure the community was just below them.
Alyssa knew that life—as she knew it—was over.
Her fate was to be with Adam.
The thought set in and her heart sank. She couldn’t remember ever being so terrified in her entire life.
It soon became obvious they were nowhere near their precious community, however. Pa cursed and yelled in a fit of temper. They were all hungry and tired. When they stopped for breaks, Alyssa fell asleep each time, hardly able to hold herself in an upright position.
 That evening as they walked through an area dense with pine trees and foliage, to their surprise, they came across a cabin in the woods. Pa and Adam stood in the trees staring at it. It was obviously occupied. Smoke wafted out of the chimney, the smell of fresh bread was in the air, and the tinkle of music could be heard if you strained your ear.
As Alyssa's eyes alighted upon the cabin for the first time, she thought perhaps she was dreaming. It was like seeing a mirage in the desert. It couldn’t be real—the sight, the sound, the smell. It was . . . charming. She was seeing things. It must be her imagination. After all, who lived up here in the middle of nowhere? But if she was seeing things that weren’t really there, then so were Adam and Pa.
They decided to pay the occupant a visit and cautiously began the walk up to the door of the cabin. Alyssa suddenly felt like Dorothy along withtwo cowardly lions approaching the wizard. The cautious music from the movie played in her befuddled brain.
Yep, she was losing it.
Puffs of smoke shot out of the chimney and she wondered if Adam would turn around and run.
Maybe the wizard would grant her deepest wish.
Freedom . . .
Links to Buy 

Author Bio:
Taylor Dean lives in Texas and is the mother of four grown children. Upon finding herself with an empty nest, she began to write the stories that were always wandering around in her head, quickly finding that she had a passion for writing, specifically romance. Whether it’s paranormal, contemporary, or suspense—you’ll find all sub-genres of romance in her line-up. 
Website         Facebook  
Twitter - @taylordeanbooks

Excerpt from "Protecting Molly" from 'Innocence End' by Angel Sharum

Angel Sharum and I have been in many writing groups together over these past few years. I got chills when I read the first line of her short story "Protecting Molly," which now appears in her latest collection, Innocence End. You can read that first line and more in this excerpt. The collection is a bargain, at a mere 99 cents on Amazon!

Book Blurb:

In a dramatic departure from her trademark tales of fun and horror, Angel Sharum offers within Innocence End two short stories of the real world many children have experienced but most adults would rather ignore:

1) The Beat Goes On portrays the brutality inflicted frequently on a daughter blamed for the death of her mother.

2) Protecting Molly takes the reader into the world of a girl whose father treats her not as a daughter as much as his substitute wife. Caution: Sharum holds nothing back in her depiction of the things one daughter will do to protect the youngest daughter from the brutality and depravity of their alcoholic father.

Though neither short story is for the squeamish, both are a herald of the return of the understated Southern narrative voice of such classic authors as Harper Lee and Truman Capote to American literature. ___Robert L. Arend, editor and contributing author of the Circle 8 Writers Group anthologies.

Read an excerpt:
My sister grabbed my hand under our threadbare blanket and held on tight. I lay perfectly still, hoping our father would stumble back out the door. I should have known my luck wasn’t that good, but until that night I still had dreams that life would get better.

We both watched him teeter this way and that around the room. When he reached our pallet, he dropped to his knees. Molly and my hands clenched under the covers, but otherwise, we didn’t make a sound. We were waiting. I don’t believe either of us knew what we were waiting for, but, somehow, we knew things were about to change.

He grumbled under his breath, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. When he started moving his hand back and forth in the darkness, me and Molly drew our legs up as far as we could. In the end, it didn’t matter. He still found me.

He grunted in satisfaction and pulled my legs back down. Then, while he held me in place with one hand, I heard him unbuckle his belt with the other. From her indrawn breath, I knew my sister heard it as well. We both braced ourselves for the beating we thought was coming.

Turns out a beating would have been a blessing.
Buy link: http://amzn.to/OQ2dpA (~Just 99 cents!~)

Biography
Angel Sharum is a Georgia Peach who sometimes writes stories that are rotten to the core. Never one to shy away from voicing her opinion, Angel found the perfect venue to share her thoughts when she started writing non-fiction articles for online publications.

The success of her articles convinced her to try her hand at other forms of writing. Putting what friends and family called a vivid and sometimes twisted imagination to use, she began writing poetry and short fiction. It didn't take long for her to realize this was where her true passion lay.

Writing short stories allows her to take readers on journeys of imagination that linger beyond "The End" and poetry offers a way for her to shake up people's emotions and make them think. According to Angel, when she accomplishes her goals a truly special connection exists between her and her readers.

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

'Toxic Relationship' Book Tour

 

Welcome to the Toxic Relationship book tour, sponsored by Reading Addiction Blog Tours! Find out more about this book and enter to win a $10 Amazon gift card below!

Suspense/Mystery
Date Published: 8/6/12
Publisher: Champagne Books

Synopsis: 
After a murdered partner, a cheating wife and a lost job in Houston, Nick Sibelius sets up a private investigation business in a small Texas town hoping to find some peace and maybe, himself. When a couple disappears and a bass fisherman turns up dead, he finds himself drawn into a web of toxic relationships:  MaryLou, a beautiful woman with a mysterious past; Junior, a failed farmer whose best intentions seem to always result in a dead body; Barry, a sociopathic dentist turned illegal toxic waste entrepreneur with visions of grandeur.  When the felon who killed his partner in Houston joins forces with Barry, Nick must not only stop the toxic waste dumping while finding his client’s missing daughter, but keep from being killed in the process. In the end, MaryLou’s dark secret will either save him or kill him -- whichever comes first.

Tight suspense with wonderful laugh out loud moments. Richard Hacker is a master storyteller."  
Pam Binder, Pacific Northwest Writers Association President and author of the NY Times Best Selling anthology, A Season in the Highlands
"Many times I found myself getting strange looks because I was laughing out loud...Highly entertaining and sure to be enjoyed by fans of mysteries with humor. I highly recommend it and hope that there will be more stories to follow."  
Paige Lovitt for Reader Views


Author Bio:
Richard Hacker’s novel, TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, released August, 2012 by Champagne was a 2011 Writer’s League of Texas (WLT) finalist, where in addition, SHAPER EMERGENCE won best novel in the Science Fiction category.  He is a member of both the Writers’ League of Texas and the Pacific Northwest Writers Association. 
 After living many years in Texas where he worked as a leadership coach, public speaker and management trainer, he moved with his high school sweetheart to Seattle.  While he misses the big skies of Texas, Richard has grown pretty fond of the Pacific Northwest.  Along with his wife, Sidney, they hike, kayak and have adventures on his Vespa scooter.  His writing partner is a springer spaniel named Jazz, who helps with proofreading and ball fetching.
 DIRTY WATER, the next novel in the Nick Sibelius series after TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, will be released June, 2013.  He is currently working on the third book in the series, as well as a young adult fantasy entitled INKER WARS: THE FIVE PENS OF JOHANN.
Contact Information
Twitter: @Richard_Hacker

Purchase Links

a Rafflecopter giveaway

'Mind Over Matter' Book Tour - Review & Giveaway

Welcome to the Mind Over Matter book tour, sponsored by Promotional Book Tours! I had a chance to review this book, and really enjoyed it. Check it out and then enter to win your own autographed copy!

Mind Over Matter

Rebecca McKenney grieved the loss of her daughter for three years. Now, a vision showing Sabrina three years older, suggests her baby is still alive, and the FBI agent who gave up the search is the only one who can help find her. Special Agent Dan Cooper is haunted by a tragic mistake made early in the investigation of Sabrina's disappearance. Now to ease his conscience he agrees to help Rebecca search. Together they fight inner demons, all to real bad guys, and an attraction neither wants to admit to. Each step closer to finding Sabrina is a step deeper into deception and evil. Can Rebecca and Dan save Sabrina before it's too late?

**My thoughts**

This book really sucked me in from the beginning. I felt bad, because I was at a friend's house when I started it, and basically ignored him as I whipped through it. The loss of a child causes unimaginable pain. Add to that some psychic visions that prove to Rebecca that her daughter is alive, and the torment grows even more.

Something went wrong in the initial investigation, which no one fully realized until Rebecca forces them to reopen the search for her daughter. The people involved in Sabrina's abduction may surprise you. Their full plot is definitely a sinister one, with an interesting paranormal twist.

Rebecca and Dan also have unresolved feelings for each other, that had briefly popped up three years prior to this search. A couple of brief steamy moments occur, but nothing overly graphic for those who prefer fewer intimate details.

I admire Rebecca's vigilance in fighting for her daughter and for herself. I think you will, too.
Follow the Author

Website, Facebook, Mind Over Matter Facebook Page, Twitter, LinkedIn, Goodreads  

Purchase Mind Over Matter here: MuseItUp Publishing, Amazon.ca Amazon.com Amazon.co.uk Chapters.ca  

Follow the Tour

Sept 19 - Promo Blast
Sept 20 - http://mommyreadstoomuch.com
http://couponingwithboys.com
  Sept 21 -http://songberries.com
http://ereadingonthecheap.com interview
  Sept 24 - http://amandablogs.com
http://takingtimeformommy.com
  Sept 25 -http://savingfor6.blogspot.com/
http://www.genuinejenn.com
Sept 26 -http://andisbookreviews.blogspot.com
http://coziecorner.blogspot.com
Sept 27 - http://www.craftylife.net
http://www.debbie-jean.com
  Sept 28 - http://www.ginaslibrary.info
http://nikita.mattes.blogspot.com

The author is giving away 5 autographed copies (US/ Can) or ebooks for International. Fill out the form below to enter
a Rafflecopter giveaway

Excerpt from "Artemis Unbound" by LL Darroch in 'If'

Several of the Circle 8 Writers have been Facebook friends of mine for a few years now. This talented group of writers has published several anthologies of their short stories. Check out an excerpt from LL Darroch's "Artemis Unbound," from their collection If.

Book Blurb:

The stories of If:

Amy Browne: "And So It Begins: the Birth of Paisley" Short (Paisley)story: The kingdom rejoices at the birth of a new princess. If only grandma had been more careful, the baby would not have floated up, up and away.

Andi Caldwell: "Saint Theresa" Short Story: Theresa had something in common with her namesake Saint Theresa: seeking terrible vengeance on those closest to her. If only she had known then what she knows now--that the saint was no saint in her young life, either.

Angel Sharum: "As If You Cared" Short story: If Robert hadn’t been so alienated by his wife’s manic depression, maybe the cure wouldn’t have proved so deadly.

"If You’d Only Listened" Short story: Nobody ever listened to Will, not his mother, not even his best friend Dale—NOBODY! If they had, maybe Will wouldn’t have decided it’s time for Judgement Day.

"I’m Sorry" Flash story: Sorry, Charlie.

"I Want You Back" Flash fiction: If only Nathan would’ve washed his own dirty shirts.

LL Darroch: "Artemis Unbound" Short story: A scarlet ribbon always around her neck. Oh, dear, if poor Henry had only known or had guessed why his beloved never took it off.

"The Bracelet" Short story: If Mattie can only conjure up fake spirits, how can one that keeps taunting her with a bracelet prove to be too real.

"UserError" Flash fiction: If you’re going to use a computer to cheat, don’t drink coffee.

“Green Cheese” Flash Fiction: Green Cheese: What if the moon really was made of green cheese?

"Fortress" Poetry: If the past is a dead thing, should a tombstone marks its grave?

Brittany Joy Chadwick "IF" Short story: If Frank could only believe in his Imaginary Friend.

Robert L. Arend "Snow Globe Short story: If only Ralph hadn’t been so ambitious, greedy and selfish, he and his family might not be homeless and struggling to survive the harsh Philadelphia winter. If only he could change their present by changing his past.

"The Andre Peterson Conspiracy" Short Story: If Sirhan Sirhan didn’t kill Robert F. Kennedy, who did? Time will tell.

Read an excerpt from "Artemis Unbound"
“No, I know none of them look like me. I’m a foundling.”

“A foundling?” Henry looked confused.

“As in found, left behind, abandoned. My parents found me as a baby in the forest in the autumn, at the base of a tree much like this one. They adopted me.” She was standing at the red leafed tree that her boots sat under.

“I was wrapped in a bed of dry leaves and had this on,” she said, touching the ribbon around her neck. “I never take it off because of the note…,” but she didn’t repeat what the note had said.

Henry wasn’t going to push and ask her, but he was very curious.

He walked Temi and the kids to a large rambling stone and ivy covered estate that had been maintained in pristine condition. One of the founding families of the area had built the stately home. Now he knew why the name Rutherford had rung a bell when he heard her say it.

“I’ll take my leave here,” he said, suddenly feeling uncomfortable and out of place. He was a woodsman, not a statesman.

“Oh, please, come in for some hot chocolate. I promised the kids we would make some when we got back. You were gracious enough to help out. Please let me say thank you properly.”

Simple grace, and the hair…

What had astonished Henry most that first day, beyond the fact she looked like the woman in his fantasies, was how incredibly real and down to earth she was. He had felt right at home from that first step in the front door of the grand mansion. Inside the stately beauty, everything was warm and welcoming, from the décor to the people who lived there.
Buy links: Kindle | Paperback

Monday, September 24, 2012

'Paint for Blood' Book Tour & Giveaway



Welcome to the Coffee Beans & Love Scenes Virtual Book Tour for Paint for Blood. A this stop, you can read an extended excerpt from the book. Check out other stops on the tour for reviews and even more. Enter the Rafflecopter at the end.

Title: Paint for Blood
Series: Dessa Collier, Vampire-Maker, Book 1
Author: Emily Ryan-Davis
Publisher: Self
Length: 216 pages
Genre(s) Gothic Romance, Paranormal Romance
Categories: Interracial/Multicultural, Menage (F/M/M)
Heat Level: Steamy

BLURB:
There’s only one substance on earth that can create a new vampire--the blood of a Chalice, a rare individual with magic in her veins. Atlanta’s human-vampire Civility Laws demand that if a Chalice is found, she must be destroyed. Vampire Teijon Reyes allowed the mortal girl Dessa Collier to live despite the threat she posed to society. If he ever finds her again, he will kill her, personal desires be damned.

Heiress to a family tradition of ward-working, house painter Dessa Collier has spent the past twelve years pretending vampires don't exist. When a friend-enemy walks back into Dessa’s life after a decade-long absence, everything Dessa has been hiding from comes crashing down on top of her.

Thrown together on a mission to protect a city under seige, Dessa and Teijon can no longer hide from the powerful attraction that binds them...or the monsters out to destroy them.

Read an excerpt:
Chapter One
Twelve Years Ago

You’re here to kill me, aren’t you?

The ghosts beneath Annabel McIntyre’s silky willow trees wouldn’t answer, but fifteen-year-old Dessa Collier thought the question anyway. Someday they would reply. Someday they would nod their ghostly gray heads. Someday they would say yes.

When they did, she would… well, she still didn’t know what she would do. Go quietly. Try to be dignified about it.

I saw a vampire last night in Little Five Points.” Waiva Jones’s smug declaration was anything but dignified.

You see vampires everywhere.” Dessa looked away from the ghosts. A battered pair of Doc Martens swung at her left side, suspended by their laces. Dessa flexed her fingers and relished the sting of shoe strings biting into her skin. The small pain distracted her from her headache.

What were you doing in Little Five, anyway?” The warm dregs of a Coke sloshed in the bottom of the plastic bottle in her right hand.

I went with Eight Ball,” Waiva replied, sing-song. “He wanted to take me out in his new car. Besides, what difference does it make why? I saw a vampire.”

Waiva stopped and turned, her beaded braids swinging lightly behind her shoulders. White teeth flashed a bright smile in her dark face. “Maybe they’ll come to Garrett River and you can see one.”

Dessa shook her head and kept walking. The ghosts kept pace, slithering through the ink of the deepening gloom. She didn’t want to think about vampires in Garrett River or anywhere else. Better the abominations kept to Atlanta and left Garrett River to its own monsters.

Her grandmother was getting too old to keep up with requests for protection from spirits she did understand. Haint blue paint, long believed to protect a home from malicious spirits, was only as powerful as the mixer’s knowledge. The Colliers’ haint blue had its limits. Vampires? Beyond those limits.

Waiva huffed behind her. “I don’t know why I thought you’d be excited. You never believe in anything.”

I do so. I go to church.”

You don’t believe. Don’t tell me you do. Aunt Rose says Colliers don’t know what faith is, and when I’m around you, I think she’s right.” Waiva came abreast of her only to sidle away. “Maybe I should stop hanging out with you. You might be contagious, all that not-believing.”

You don’t know what you’re talking about.” And Waiva was wrong. Dessa believed in plenty. She believed in her grandparents. Aida and Clement Collier had refused to turn her out even when Dessa’s mother begged Clement to put a bullet in his only granddaughter’s head.

She also believed in her mother’s fear. Marie Collier had known something, something about Dessa, and the knowledge drove her to choose taking life over nurturing it.
More than anything, Dessa believed in getting home before dark. Her stomach rolled with nausea because she and Waiva weren’t going to make it before sundown. On the edges of her vision, the ghosts seethed.

To either side of the road, fields of brown grass stretched off toward farm houses. Suddenly, the road she traveled every day after school felt too isolated.

I don’t feel good,” she said. “Let’s cut across the McIntyre farm.”

Waiva shrugged and veered left, past a “No Trespassing” sign and onto the field. Dessa hunched her shoulders and followed, glowering at the grass as if the dry, crinkly blades were responsible for her problems. She tried not to see the blank faces of the dead as she crossed their grim picket line.

The McIntyre shortcut wasn’t really short, but it took them on a westerly path home instead of forcing them to round back to the east. It took them toward the setting sun, away from the encroaching dark. Not fast enough. Dessa’s heart rate spiked, and a chill spread from her nape to her lower back.

Someone’s following us.” The soles of her feet cramped, ached to run, but muscles and instincts were at odds. Dessa’s stomach gnawed painfully at her spine. Run. No, stay. Hold still, pretend to be invisible.

Provide.

Up ahead, Waiva tossed her braids. “Nobody’s following us. We’re the only people for miles not sitting at a dinner table, and it’s too early for vampires.” Waiva’s voice took on a sly edge. “Maybe in another hour it’ll be vampires.”

I have a feeling.” Dessa lowered her head and focused on putting one bare foot in front of the other. Shiny black polish tipped her toes. She and Waiva continued in silence until they reached the gnarled, walking-stick stump of a long-dead tree. The stump marked a mile to the Collier farmhouse.

Race you!” Waiva took off in a sprint.

Dessa didn’t follow. Instead, she looked over her shoulder. The bottom dropped from her stomach, and her muscles went slack. A dense, squirming mass of shadow obscured her view of the road. Someone else’s memory rippled between her ears, filled her head, and gave the black cloud a name. Hungry.

She couldn’t make her legs move. The blob came upon her quickly, so fast she didn’t have time to scream before fingers of darkness shoved into her mouth. Midnight bands wrapped around her biceps and dragged her to the ground. Dessa lashed out, punching the air. An inhuman cry reached her ears just before the dark filled those openings. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t shriek when the first bite tore at her forearm.

Burning pricks of pain dotted her exposed skin and sapped her strength. Weightless phantoms took the shape of greedy, clawed hands. Heavy bodies crushed her chest. They savaged her, teeth tearing and ripping. Hungry.

After an eternity of pain, a man’s voice cut through the sounds of feeding.

Get them off her,” he commanded. “Destroy the new ones here and don’t take any back.”

Better death than a cell,” another man replied.

The instructions didn’t make sense and they weren’t for her, but Dessa tried to focus anyway. Running footsteps and quiet curses filtered through the noise of strange, hissing pops. The scent of blood clogged her air passages and made her gag. Blood. Hers. Oh, that was bad.

Awareness of her arms and legs, her burning skin, returned. Dessa started to shake. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to roll onto her side, but she couldn’t move. Paralyzed.

Large, strong hands cupped the back of her head and lifted it from the ground. The authoritative voice came again. “Can you hear me?”

Masculine scents of leather and tea tree oil penetrated the reek of blood. She wasn’t completely paralyzed. She could move her head and she did, turning her face, pressing her nose and mouth to his forearm. She breathed through the odor of blood. Gradually, sensations beyond pain and fear filtered through her brain. Waiva’s voice. Vampires.

She shuddered and opened her eyes to stare at the man above her. Broad shoulders blocked the darkening violet sky. He was layers of brown against the bruised backdrop. Coffee skin, walnut hair twisted in thick dreadlocks, amber eyes.

Long fingers pushed purple tangles of hair from her face. He tilted her head at an uncomfortable angle, pressed his fingertips beneath her jaw, and muttered, “Fuck.”

Dessa’s eyelids drooped heavily. He wasn’t supposed to use that word around her. She was too young, and she was female. Clearly he wasn’t from the South.

You’re here to kill me,” she whispered. However many times she’d thought the words, she’d never spoken them aloud.

Yes. I am.” He tilted her head, golden gaze intent on her face. “Do you know why?”

My mother knew why.” She swallowed and closed her eyes. “How are you going to do it? With your fangs?”

No fangs, baby. Never fangs.” He slid his arms beneath her shoulders and knees and lifted her off the ground. She should have resisted his hold. The notion of good sense lurked in the back of her head, struggling to penetrate the fog that divided her rational brain from her feeling brain. Feeling rose to the top and floated like sea foam.

She felt safe. Sure, he was going to kill her, but death was going to happen eventually anyway. She didn’t have the energy to delay it by struggling. Flopping limp in his arms required no effort at all. So what if he said “fuck”?

Someone approached. The man who held her lifted her higher against his chest. Distantly, she labeled his body language as possessive. But that was stupid and romantic. She was no princess even if he was a knight. And he wasn’t a knight.

Call for a car,” he said. He muttered something else. Maybe the f-word again. Dessa blacked out and lost more time.

When she came back to herself, the thick scent of blood was gone, replaced by tangy pine. Dessa squinted at the outline of a tree-shaped air freshener dangling from the inside of a car door.

Her killer’s hand skimmed her butt, and he swore. “No ID. How am I supposed to know where to take you?”

He whispered the words. Why was he whispering?

She doesn’t look good.” A new voice, low and grim. “We destroyed nine. How the hell is there anything left of her?”

She could create a hundred more.” Her knight-killer again.

A hundred new creations would damn us all,” the other man, the one who wasn’t touching her, said. “Our own laws make us murderers.”

We agreed to them. Get out and wait for me.”

The car door slammed. Dessa didn’t want to look. She turned her face to his shoulder. Warm lips stroked her ear, followed by a hot, wet lick. He held her still and drew his tongue down her throat to her shoulder, eating her pain.

Don’t ever give your blood away. It’s more valuable than gold and the minute someone else possesses it, you’re lost to yourself. Don’t give it away, baby girl.

She’d forgotten those parting words from her mother.

The vampire’s tongue dipped behind her ear, and she shivered. She’d given her blood away, and she didn’t want to take it back.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Emily Ryan-Davis is a lifelong East Coaster whose passion for the written word saw her through jobs writing obituaries, press releases and grants before she decided “I’m going to do this” and sat down to write a book. She made that decision in 2005 and has since published several short stories and novellas with digital publishers including Ellora’s Cave. On May 24, 2012, Emily left supervisors and payrolls behind in order to focus her efforts on writing and raising her son.

Emily has been a member of the Writer’s Digest-recognized writing community Romance Divas, where she volunteers as a moderator and organizes the annual "Not Going to Conference" Virtual Conference, since 2006.

Visit Emily at:


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