Thursday, July 31, 2014

Review of 'Blue Midnight (Blue Mountain #1)' by Tess Thompson

by Tess Thompson



“If you change your mind, here’s this.” Finn Lanigan kissed a young Blythe Heywood one last time under a star-scattered Idaho sky. It was the last kiss that ever weakened her knees, the last sky she noticed for over a dozen years. Then she left, returning to her fianc├ę, the wedding she’d committed to, and the secure life she’d yearned for since she was a little girl.

Thirteen years later, her husband leaves Blythe for his young associate. Devastated, she’s unable to imagine the next chapter of her life as she packs her family’s belongings to move across town. Unexpectedly, she finds the forgotten slip of paper bearing Finn’s phone number in the back of a drawer.

Hadn’t she tossed it years before as a newlywed, when she vowed to be the perfect wife and mother? Apparently not. Here it remained. Her road not taken.

Facing three weeks without her young daughters, Blythe sets out to find the man she left behind so long ago. With only the name of the small town where he once lived, Peregrine, Idaho, and the memory of their last kiss under a starry sky, she heads across the Pacific Northwest in search of him.

What she finds in the foothills of Blue Mountain challenges everything she thought she knew and is the very last thing she expected. Within days, her life changes forever. But it is her destiny and destinies cannot be denied.

The first book of the Blue Mountain Collection, laced with Thompson’s lovable but complex characters, “Blue Midnight” is a mature love story about second chances, family, and the complexities of trust and vulnerability after betrayal.

Read an excerpt:

Around noon two days later, sixty miles west of my destination, I stopped at a roadside rest area. After I used the facilities and washed my hands, I bought a diet soda from the machine and walked across the grass, past picnic tables with families having a snack, and a man with a dog on a leash. Several boys, around my daughters’ ages, tossed a football back and forth. At the edge of the manicured grass, I stopped, sipping my soda. I peered at the mountains surrounding the park, its grasses yellow under a cloudless blue sky. Suddenly, I shivered, despite the warmth of the afternoon. It felt like someone watched me. I looked around but no one paid any attention to me. I must be losing my mind with all this alone time.

Shrugging, I returned my gaze to the view. The Idaho terrain was rugged and wild, the arid air easy to breathe. A dragonfly buzzed by me and landed on a tuft of grass. Sparrows and jays darted from tree to tree, calling to one another. A lizard scampered up a fir trunk, his tail twitching. I stretched, looking up to the sky, which was a bit of luck. If I hadn’t, I might not have seen him. A hawk, I thought at first, until from behind me I heard a gravelly voice say, “Peregrine falcon you see there.” Startled, I jumped and turned. The voice belonged to an older man. Tall and slim, dressed in a black suit and red tie, he fiddled with a set of binoculars around his neck. When he saw me looking at him, he pointed upward. I followed his finger back to the majestic bird.

“Peregrine? Like the name of the town?” Why did this man wear a black suit in the middle of the summer, I wondered?

“Yep. We’re fond of the peregrine here in Idaho.” I guessed the man to be around eighty. Thick white hair, trimmed neatly, shone in the sun. His dark blue eyes seemed fierce and focused.

“I’m headed there. To the town, I mean.”

He put the binoculars up to his eyes. “It’s at the foot of Blue Mountain but you won’t find much there. Nothing but a one stoplight kind of town, if that.”

“That’s what I’ve heard.”

He pointed to the sky and the falcon. “Keep watching. He’s hunting, I ‘spect.”

“What do they eat?”

“Small birds and bats mostly.”

The peregrine soared above us, not directly but close enough that if I had my camera I could capture him. I instinctively reached for it, as if it were around my neck. Startled, I put my hands in my pockets. I couldn’t remember the last time I reached for my camera. Just then the peregrine dipped, almost like a kite dips suddenly in the wind at the beach, and captured a sparrow in its beak and then swooped high once more. “Did he catch that bird midair?” I heard myself ask.

“Yep, that’s what they do. Sharp eyesight. They can see things we can’t. A photographer like you might capture it with your fancy camera but my old eyes are too weak to see the prey, only the hunter.”

“What did you say?” I asked, sharply, peering at him now instead of the activity above us. “How did you know I was a photographer?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Well, aren’t you?”

“I used to be.”

“No such thing as used to be. It’s always in there someplace. Now go get your equipment before he disappears.”

For some reason I can’t explain, I did what he told me. I jogged to the car and grabbed my new camera. I sprinted back across the lawn. The man squinted into the sunlight, watching the bird.

“His wings are enormous.” I slipped the lens cap into my shorts.

“Probably a four-foot wingspan, but his body’s the size of a crow. They were almost wiped out completely, you know. DDT and other pesticides were killing him but he’s back now, stronger than ever. They prefer wide, open spaces but they travel long distances. Peregrine means wanderer,” he said. “Like you.”

“Oh no, I’m not a wanderer. I never go anywhere.” I wanted to tell him why I traveled alone now, explain to him that I was a mother even though my children were not with me. I felt their absence at that moment, keenly, a piercing pain that penetrated the dull ache I’d carried since their departure. Suddenly, I wanted them to see the peregrine more than anything. They should be close enough that I could smell their hair as we tilted our heads back to see the majestic bird and its steep, swift dives. Clementine should be glued to my side; the bird would scare her in that way children are frightened and thrilled at the same time and she would press her small body against my leg. But my family was no longer intact. There would be no more road trips with the four of us. I blinked back tears and saw the three of them standing in the sunshine like ghosts—there but not there. Then, the image disappeared. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

I glanced at the man; he peered at me with his head to one side. “Wandering’s a state of mind. People prone to thinking of where they should be instead of where they are.”

Irritation stirred in my stomach. I averted my eyes. This person didn’t know me. He knew nothing of my situation, and his assertion was presumptuous and pretentious, one of these people who thought they knew things from some kind of transcendent instinct. I had no use for such people.

“They mate for life,” he said. “Don’t know why but that’s always fascinated me.”

The peregrine soared above us once more, but it looked like without his latest capture. Had he already deposited it with his family? Focusing with my zoom lens and using a fast shutter speed, I caught him as he dipped down, closer and closer and snagged an unsuspecting, small brown bird in his claws. I snapped many times in rapid succession, delighted by the speed of this new camera, as his enormous wings carried him high above. Then he was gone. I turned to say something to the man. But the space he’d filled was empty. I searched the entire rest stop area with my eyes. But he was nowhere to be seen. I shivered.

*My thoughts**

Tess Thompson is one of my current favorite indie authors. She has a knack for creating intricate tales of romance with a dash of mystery that keep you engaged throughout the entire read. Her vivid descriptions of the characters and settings make you feel as if you are right there along with them. In fact, while reading this book, which is told in first-person from Blythe's point-of-view, I truly felt like she and I were one. I saw what she saw. I heard what she heard. I felt what she felt. 

Blythe is rebuilding her life, following her divorce from her cheating ex-husband. She wants to do what is right for her girls, as well as finally do for herself. Along her journey, she stumbles upon things she never dreamed, which I feel helped to further shape her character and add to that inner strength she never realized she had.

The quirky characters fit in well with any small town, or larger city for that matter. I thoroughly enjoyed the banter between Blythe and her sister, Bliss. Moonstone, the clairvoyant innkeeper is insightful and interesting. And then, of course, there are the dear eccentric mothers. Listening to descriptions of them put a smile on my face.

Another aspect of Tess Thompson's writing that I adore is the wisdom shared by the various characters. You will find yourself highlighting these little nuggets that are so naturally sprinkled throughout the book. Mini life lessons in the middle of fiction. I also always feel like everything happens for a reason. Yes, this is a carefully crafted piece of fiction. But it is such a real story that it makes you believe in fate all over again.

I let this book wash over me, just like her other books, enjoying it on a summer afternoon. I am so excited that there is a new series and can't wait to read more of it!

Buy links

Author bio and links:

Tess Thompson is a novelist and playwright with a BFA in Drama from the University of Southern California. In 2011 she released her first novel, Riversong, which subsequently became a best seller.

Like her main character in the Legley Bay collection, Tess is from a small town in Oregon. She currently lives in a suburb of Seattle, Washington with her two young daughters, Emerson and Ella, and their puppy Patches. She is inspired daily by the view of the Cascade Mountains from her home office window.

Tess is working on her next novel and regularly blogs about her journey as a mother, author and friend at


The author will award a digital copy of the Legley Bay Collection to two randomly drawn winners via Rafflecopter. Follow the tour for more chances to win!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Read an exclusive excerpt from 'Uriel's Fall (Ubiquity #1)' by Loralie Hall

Uriel’s Fall 
by Loralie Hall



Ronnie has the job any entry-level angel or demon would sell their soul for—she's a retrieval analyst for the largest search engine in the world. Ubiquity is a joint initiative between heaven and hell. Because what better way to track all of humanity's secrets, both good and bad, than direct access to their web browsing habits.

She might appreciate the position a little more if a) she could remember anything about her life before she started working at Ubiquity, b) the damn voice in her head would just shut up already, and c) her boss wasn't a complete dickhead.

As she searches for solutions to the first two issues, and hopes the third will work itself out in performance reviews, she uncovers more petty backstabbing than an episode of Real Housewives, and a conspiracy as old as Lucifer's descent from heaven. On top of all that, if she forgets the cover sheet on her TPS report one more time, she's absolutely going on final written warning.

Now Ronnie’s struggling to keep her sanity and job, while stopping the voice in her head from stealing her life. She almost misses the boredom of data analysis at Ubiquity. Almost.


Read an exclusive excerpt:
Michael held his hands in front of him, palms together. As he pulled one from the other, a sword hilt appeared, followed by the entire blade. The weapon wasn't as stable as he would’ve liked. The faint blade would’ve cost him his life against another of his own kind, but it was enough to take down mortals.

With a deep breath, he stepped forward, and then lunged into the fray without further hesitation. The blade of light-turned-solid pierced the commanding officer's back, and the soldier dropped to the ground with a grunt. A sparkling residue ringed the wound for less than a millisecond before his blood obliterated it.

Organized chaos erupted into bedlam as monks flattened themselves on the ground, and soldiers scrambled to figure out what was going on. As all eyes turned in Michael's direction, bursts of gunfire erupted. Bullets dug into the pillars around him. He flinched and turned away from the shrapnel. The splinters bounced off his cheek with tiny stings. He wasn't worried about them leaving marks—the only thing that would hurt would be getting them in his eyes. Soft tissue always took forever to heal, and he needed to be able to see now, not in two minutes.

He flowed like liquid light through the madness, blade catching each target and dropping them to the ground. There was no guilt felt for these lost lives. The innocent—he always had compassion for them—but one of his angelic gifts was to see the intent and potential of those around him, and the intent in these soldiers was only for harm and brutality.

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Loralie Hall is a full time corporate geek and a fuller time writer. Her spouse is her muse and their cats are very much their children. When they’re not spending way too much time gaming, they’re making the world more good by vanquishing one fictional evil at a time.

Find Loralie Hall Online


Loralie will be awarding a $15 Amazon GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour, and a $25 Amazon GC to a randomly drawn host between this tour and the Book Blast tour.
a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Fans of 'Once Upon a Time' check out 'Dream Killers' by S.M. Blooding


DK S1 CoversBlurb:

The Sea of Dreams spat me out with no memories, no idea of who I was or what my purpose might be. When Captain Bo, dream killer extraordinaire, arrived, I took a chance to explore. On the road of discovery, I tripped upon dreamplanes floating dead in a graveyard, scared children attempting to survive their dreams turned nightmare, strange guardians, rogue Dreamlanders, and ships with hearts of silver. I learned more about Dreamland than I ever thought possible. But people are dying. They're disappearing. Dreamland is twisting, shifting, ripping. I don't know how best to help, how to save those I've met, who have wormed their way into my heart. If only I knew who I was, what I'd been born to do. Then I found out. I know who I am. I wish I didn't. Dream Killers is geared for fans of Once Upon a Time. The first season (Spring 2014) consists of 3 novellas called episodes. It follows River as he discovers who he is and his role in Dreamland. Dream Killers is to Dreamland Stories what Agents of Shield is to the Marvel movies. Dreamland is an intense, rich, fascinating world with lots going on. If you like fairy tales, are looking for something new,try this one.

Read an excerpt:
Travelers are many things. Friendly to perfect strangers? Not really.

Captain Bo stood on the shore looking between me, Mech and Rulak.

A crowd gathered around us.

“Who is with this one?” Mam Dika demanded, pushing her way to the front. “Do we has more what comes from the water? Is it with the sprouting of fish?”

The captain frowned and pulled back, holding up a finger. “Give me a minute while I translate that. Wait, wait.”

I chuckled. I couldn’t help it. It had taken me nearly a year to understand what anyone said in the caravan, and sometimes I still struggled with it, especially when they got upset.

“Ah, right. No, ma’am. We are not fish. I am the captain of Night’s Cruelty.”

“There is no night here,” I said.

He scrutinized me out of the corner of his eye. “Isn’t the name of my vessel just, then?”

Mech pushed past me. “What are you doing here?”

“Ah, a red man, quite literally. I like it.” He waved a hand. “I followed a distress signal. I believe we’ve already gone over this once. Weren’t you here for that part of the conversation? I’m quite certain you were.”

Mech raised his broad chin.

Rulak put his hand on the basher’s shoulder and dragged him back. “So what kinds of monsters do you be?”

Captain Bo brought his head forward. “What kind of creature are you that you can’t talk straight? I’ve seen purple people, red people—” He gestured to Mech. “—shallow people, full people, small people, tall people, and I’ve even met a few I wouldn’t call people. But they all know how to speak in a manner others can understand.”

Mam Dika hunched her shoulders, her face screwed up. “Who’s with the telling we can’t speak? Maybe it be’s with the you who can’t speak.”

“My Di-boo, no.” Rulak touched her arm.

She straightened and rejoined her family.

Rulak rounded on the captain. “We’s simply be with the knowing of what you is. If you has none with the answers, then you can be away.”

Captain Bo swung toward the sea, his mouth open, one hand raised. He turned back with a thick frown.

“Do you have something that needs power?”

The people of the caravan murmured to one another.

The main reason the entire troop had come to the gathering was because our shield generator was down. We needed as many people as we could to protect the wagons.
Sure. You could ask, “From what?” I would remind you we’re in the land of dreams, not candy and butterflies.

The captain’s expression opened. “Ah, right then. That’s the reason we’re here. We have power. Just show us where you need it, and we’ll transfer it.”

“We has no means to pay.” Rulak straightened, squaring his shoulders.

Captain Bo laughed. “This is Dreamland, good sir. Who pays for anything? Like I said, if you has—have. Look at you. You’re rubbing off on me already—real food and possibly drink, we’d be more than happy to exchange one meal for power.”

Rulak narrowed his eyes.

I caught his gaze and opened my hands, my eyebrows lodged in my shaggy hairline. I sucked in my lips and bit down on them, jerking my head in the captain’s direction.

The caravan leader growled low and turned, parting the crowd to get to the gathered wagons.

Captain Bo rubbed his temple and then flicked his fingers. “Is that a yes, then?”

Purchase from S.M. Blooding's website

Also available directly through Amazon

Follow S MBlooding

Facebook /Twitter /Pinterest /Goodreads /Newsletter

Meet the Author:

SM “Frankie” Blooding lives in Colorado with her pet rock, Rockie, and Jack the Bird. Jack has refused to let her to take up the piano again, but is warming to the guitar. It might help that Frankie has learned more than two strings. She’s added a few more Arabic words to her vocabulary, but don’t invite her into conversation yet—unless, of course, you’re willing to have a very . . . slow . . . conversation. She’s dated vampires, werewolves, sorcerers, weapons smugglers and US Government assassins. Yes. She has stories. She’s also an investigator with a local paranormal investigation group, Colorado Paranormal Rescue!

  Follow the Book Tour

'The Marquesa's Necklace' by P.J. MacLayne

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author will be awarding free ecopy of The Marquesa's Necklace and a $10 Amazon gift card to a randomly drawn winner via the rafflecopter at the end of this post during the tour. Please click on the banner to see the other stops on this tour.

Harmony Duprie enjoyed her well-ordered life in the quiet little town of Oak Grove—until her arrest for drug trafficking. Cleared of all charges, she wants nothing more than to return to the uneventful lifestyle of a historical researcher she once savored.

But when her beloved old car “George” is stolen and explodes into a ball of flames, it sets off a series of events that throws her plans into turmoil. Toss in a police detective that may or may not be interested in her, an attractive but mysterious stranger on her trail, and an ex-boyfriend doing time, and Harmony’s life freefalls into a downward spiral of chaos.

Now she has to use her research skills to figure out who is behind the sinister incidents plaguing her, and why. And she better take it seriously, like her life depends upon finding the right answers.

Because it might.

Now enjoy an excerpt:

The bus ride home seemed longer than the morning’s trip as I studied each person getting on for a potential threat. Was the little gray-haired lady with the oversize purse and shopping bag packing a handgun? Did the teenage boy wearing a long black coat keep ninja stars in his pockets? And the woman in her mid-twenties holding a little girl’s hand? Was the child was just a prop, borrowed for the afternoon, solely to throw off suspicion? In reality, was the woman a super spy waiting for a chance to drug me and cart me off to her remote hideaway?

Or not. Buying a new car became a priority. I toyed with the idea of a Harley. I envisioned it—me, dressed out in a black cat suit, wearing black boots with five-inch heels, striding into the biker bar across town. But it’s awfully hard to haul a laptop and scanner around on one of those things, let alone bring home the groceries. Maybe I would settle for a screaming red Corvette or Ferrari. My funds manager would think I‘d gone off my rocker.

P.J. MacLayne is a computer geek by day and a writer by night. She grew up among the rolling hills of Pennsylvania and uses that as the setting for many of her stories. She currently makes her home in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains.



Barnes and Noble:





a Rafflecopter giveaway

Monday, July 28, 2014

'Joe (Joe Knowe Series #1)' by H.D. Gordon

Joe (The Joe Knowe Series, Book One)
by H.D. Gordon



A psychopath planning a massacre. A stuttering young girl with disturbing visions of the future. Six ordinary people who will all be in the line of fire come the day of the disaster.

Joe Knowe is not a boy. She is twenty-one years old, and she sees things before they happen; bad things, and the worst thing she has ever faced is just around the corner. A madman is going to shoot up the college Joe attends. The trouble is, her gift is stingy on the details she needs to divert the impending tragedy. Now, Joe has four days to figure out the mystery and save the lives of many.

From the author of The Alexa Montgomery Saga comes a tense tale that glimpses the mind of a genuine psychopath, follows an unlikely hero, and explores real-life terror in a race against time that will leave the reader breathless.

Read an excerpt:
“But it had been big. It had been a life-changing, rapid moment that had altered the little raven-haired girl forever. For better or worse, it was one of the moments that had made her into the person she was today, permanently changed her outlook on life and wiped away the moisture behind her young ears.

She had been only twelve years old. The backs of her ears should have stayed wet for a while yet, like most twelve year old’s do. But her greenness had been swept away nonetheless, and there was nothing she could do about it.

And it wasn’t fair.

But that’s life, baby, and that shit ain’t always fair.”

Buy links

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

H. D. Gordon is the bestselling author of THE ALEXA MONTGOMERY SAGA, THE JOE KNOWE SERIES, and THE SURAH STORMSONG NOVELS. She is a lifelong reader and writer; a true lover of words. A mother, a self-proclaimed philosopher and a wordsmith, H. D. is twenty-five years old and lives in the northeastern United States.





The author will be awarding a signed paperback of JOE (US only -- digital copy substituted for international winners) and $15 Amazon gift card to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Follow the tour for more chances to win!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Thursday, July 24, 2014

Linda K. Hopkins, author of 'Bound By a Dragon' tells us what we need to know about dragons

Important Facts about Dragons

Not all dragons are the same, and in fact, there are two different and distinct dragon species - the Asian dragon and the European dragon. These two species differ quite widely from each other. The first, the Asian dragon, is more serpentine in form, with a very long, sleek body. It has four legs and deer-like horns on its head, but it does not have wings, and they do not breathe fire. Asian dragons can control the air around them, and it is through this ability that they can take flight.

European dragons, on the other hand, have much larger, bulkier bodies and huge wings which allow them to fly over vast distances. They also have very long and incredible strong tails. If you have read Bound by a Dragon, you will know that the dragons in this story are European dragons. The rest of this discussion pertains specifically to the European dragon.

As we know, dragons can breathe fire and flame. The reason for this is that dragons are created from fire. Their very essence is fire, and their physical form contains the flame. If you draw close to a dragon, you will feel the heat that emanates from its skin. Although a dragon can keep the flame contained, it will breathe fire when roused by anger or any other strong emotion. If you find yourself near an angry dragon, run for water!

The neck, back, tail, and legs of a dragon are covered in tough, overlapping scales, creating an impenetrable armor. It is almost impossible to harm a dragon by attacking the backside of the creature. The underside of the dragon, the stomach, is covered in thick, leathery skin. It is still very difficult to harm a dragon from the front, since dragons will naturally protect this more vulnerable area.

Dragons have huge wingspans which allow them to glide on air currents for very long distances. It is commonly believed that dragons have leathery wings, like that of a bat, but the wings of a dragon are actually far finer. If you get a chance to examine a dragon's wings closely, you will see that the wing surface seems woven from many strands of something resembling very strong silk, resulting in a very thin, but incredible strong surface. The wings are also very light, and can easily be folded against the dragon's back. The wings catch and reflect light so that when the dragon is seen in flight is often shines and glimmers.

The dragon in Bound by a Dragon is gold, but dragons come in almost any color, and this coloring is passed through the genes. The rarest dragon color is white, although there have been a very small number of reported sightings of albino dragons.

Dragons tend to live very long lives, and it is not uncommon for dragons to live five or six hundred years. The oldest reported dragon lived to 897 years, but since this is based on oral tradition, reported by humans living in the same vicinity as the dragon and passed from one generation to another, this is very difficult to verify.

It is often said that dragons are cunning and sly, but this is not strictly true. Like humans, dragons have individual personalities and character traits, so while some may be cunning, others will exhibit more benevolent attributes. They are known to be intelligent, and with such long lives have developed a very accurate understanding of humankind.

Dragons are carnivores and require vast amounts of meat to live, but dragons have been known to eat meat other than human flesh, such as beef, mutton and venison. It would seem that dragons can exist for long periods without feasting on human flesh, although they do seem to have a need for it once in a while. Whether this is because they prefer the taste of human flesh or because they need it to survive is not understood.

The most interesting quality about dragons is the properties of their blood. It has long been understood that dragon blood has the ability to heal even potentially fatal wounds, but it is not understood how this occurs. Further study may reveal the answer to this perplexing question, but since dragons are not very accommodating in allowing scientists samples of their blood, the answers may still be a long time coming. What we do know is, if you can get your hands on dragon blood, hang on to it for all you are worth.

Bound by a Dragon
Linda K. Hopkins


The dragon turned its head and seemed to look straight at Keira. Pulling her arm out of her sister’s, she drew herself upright and stared straight back, meeting the golden eye of the dragon before it turned its enormous body in a slow, fluid motion and lazily flew towards the mountains.

A dragon has moved into the neighborhood of Keira's small, medieval village, unsettling the residents as they fear for their safety. All except Keira, who is fascinated by the creature, both dangerous and beautiful. But when Aaron Drake decides to take up residence in his ancestral home of Storbrook Castle, set deep in the nearby mountains, Keira finds herself unsettled by the handsome stranger. Why did he decide to move to Storbrook, almost eighty years after it was last inhabited, and does the dragon really live in the caves below the castle?

Read an excerpt:
As she watched the mighty beast before her, the dragon bent its neck into a graceful arch downward, bringing its face closer to Keira’s eye level, its golden cat-like eyes watching her intently. Keira quelled the desire to step back, instead keeping her feet firmly planted as she continued to gaze at the dragon.

“Why did you take me?” she finally asked, shuddering at the thought of what might have been. She lifted her hand to her cheek, feeling the sting of scratches scored down her face. A flash of sharp teeth made her draw in her breath as the dragon replied with a growl.

“I’m sorry Keira,” it said. “I should have been there sooner. When I think of what that boy was about to do …” The dragon stopped and pulled in a breath. “I shouldn’t have left him alive!”

Keira trembled at the thought. “But why?” she said. “What does it matter to you?”

The dragon stared at her for a long moment, until finally it breathed out a sigh, sending sparks flaring from its nostrils. “Come closer, Keira,” it said.

Keira hesitated, wondering what the dragon intended to do with her.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” the dragon said.

She looked at the mighty beast before her and suppressed a shudder. Its claws rested on the ground, razor-sharp and menacing. She could see its pointed teeth and knew that it could rip her to shreds in an instant, or burn her to a crisp with one hot breath. One swipe of its massive tail could send her flying through the air, or leave her broken on the ground. Keira knew that the dragon could wield mighty power with barely any effort, striking fear into the hearts of many brave men. But as she looked at the dragon, gazing into eyes that blazed like the fire it breathed, she felt her fears slowly melt away.

Buy links

Linda K. Hopkins lives in Calgary, Canada, with her husband and two great kids. When she's not writing, she's usually reading (a great pastime when you are trapped in a snowbound landscape eight months of the year!), tinkering on the piano or just living life!



The author will give away a $25 Amazon gift certificate via Rafflecopter. Follow the tour for more chances to win!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

'Second Chance Bride' by Sandra Edwards ~ Read the Reviews!


Second-Chance-Bride resizedBlurb:

After being jilted, practically at the altar, Genie Wainwright heads to Hawaii to escape the well-meant pity party her friends and family are bound to throw on her behalf. What she never expects is to find someone to help her mend her broken heart.

Donnie Taylor, owner of the posh Sapphire Bay Resort, has no interest in marriage—until he meets an unforgettable guest at the hotel. What starts out as a kindhearted gesture brings Donnie something he never expects—love!

Buy on:
Amazon | B&N | iTunes (Preorder on Aug 15th)

About the author:

Author Sandra EdwardsNEW YORK TIMES & USA TODAY Bestselling Author Sandra Edwards writes award-winning romance in a variety of subgenres such as paranormal (mostly time travel and reincarnation), contemporary, and suspense. She lives in the U.S. (west coast) with her husband, two kids, four dogs and one very temperamental feline. Sandra's books often push the envelope and step outside the boundaries of conventional romance. For more info on Sandra's books, visit her website at Sign up for Sandra's NEW RELEASE ALERT at

Follow Sandra:

Facebook | Twitter

Read the Reviews 

Mama's Got Flair

My Mismatched World

For Him and My Family

The Mama Chronicles

Totally Random Family Gal

Niki's Book Blog

Enter to win a $25 Amazon GC from the Author. Open INT 18+, fill out the form to enter. Ends 8/10/14 @ 11:59 PM EST a Rafflecopter giveaway

Wednesday, July 23, 2014

'Strangers on a Bus' by Rob Manary

PROMO Blitz – Strangers on a Bus
Romantic Comedy / Memoir
Date Published: March 29, 2011

 photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png

If you liked When Harry Met Sally, you'll fall in love with Robb and Gertrude from Strangers on a Bus...

Robb is crushed by a failed relationship with the love of his life and finds himself unexpectedly on a long bus trip from his adopted home in the U.S. back to his native Canada.

At the first stop in NYC, a girl gets on and so begins a contemplation of life, love, and strange events that will bring tears of laughter and heartache streaming down your face.

Is this girl Robb's real true love or just a rebound? How far can they get on a bus ride anyway?

This is a true story.


Chapter 22
Things To Do in A Bus Stop Bathroom?

The sun started to come up as we crossed into Canada, and Gertrude told me we wouldn’t be making out once it was daylight. Lip dancing on a brightly lit bus was too “tacky” for her, and besides her lessons were having a not entirely unpleasant side effect on her.

I find it best to try not to understand women at all. But, there is one phenomenon that causes me more confusion than any of the other baffling behavior women indulge in.

When you tell a woman something and she doesn’t believe you, so you tell her the opposite, and she doesn’t believe that either, I like that.

So, you tell her the first thing you said was, indeed, the truth, and she doesn’t want to believe that one either.


So am I. Here is the latest incarnation of this occurrence.
Gertrude: “All this kissing isn’t bothering you? You’ve got more restraint than any guy I’ve ever met. I thought you would have been trying to feel me up hours ago.”

Me: “Would it have worked?”

Gertrude: “Maybe, probably not. I think it’s nice. You’re a gentleman.”

Me: “Not really. Every time we stop I take care of that in the bathroom.”

Gertrude: “You’re such a pig! You washed your hands right! You’re so gross! You didn’t! Did you?”

Me: “I thought I was a gentleman! I lie! I lie! I lie! Of course I didn’t.”

Gertrude: “You’re such a pig! You did! Didn’t you? You’re so gross!”

Me: “Stop laughing at me if I’m so gross! I didn’t! I didn’t!”

Gertrude: “You did so! You’re such a pig!”

Me: “Okay. Fine. I did.”

Gertrude: “No you didn’t! You’re not that big a pig. Close. But no. You didn’t.”

Me: “I tell you I didn’t and you say I did. I tell you I did, and you say I didn’t. You’re such a weirdo.”

And then I kissed her, because the sun was rising quick, and because I couldn’t see another way to end that conversation. It is possible that debate could have gone on indefinitely, and there was no way I could prove conclusively what I had or had not done in a bus stop bathroom.

After what might be our last extended lip dancing lesson Gertrude whispered in my ear, “I was horny and wanted Dicky-bird…that is fun to say, so in the bathroom… I did.”


About the Author - Rob Manary

Robert Manary is an international playboy and man of mystery, with the charm and sophistication of James Bond shaken not stirred with a couple ounces of Cyrano de Bergerac, a dash of Rasputin, and garnished with the rapier wit of Thurston Howell the Third.

That's how he sees himself, anyway.

The truth is Robert Manary is a construct created to protect the dubious reputation of his Clark Kent like mild mannered writer/puppeteer/the man pulling the levers and breathing life into the Great and Powerful Oz (don't look too closely behind the curtain).

Robert Manary's alter ego dropped out of Radio Broadcasting College to pursue a lucrative career bartending at a seedy gentlemen's club, played around stocking shelves at a small grocery store until he screwed up badly enough to be given a promotion, and finally left the glamorous life of fighting with Parmalat representatives over the quantity of soy milk required for a small Northern Ontario town to function adequately, for the bright lights of New York.

Wow that was one long sentence!

Manary is also a master of the run-on sentence, an abuser of commas, and has no idea how to properly use this bit of punctuation: ";"

He also thinks he is much "cleverer" than he probably is.

Manary is an award winning blogger, an erotic romance novel writer, the author of a pretty decent romantic comedy, and for a brief period in the early nineties served as dictator of a small South American country.

Most of that is true.

New York, New York, if you can make it there you can make it anywhere. Manary couldn't make it there, and with only a little prompting from law enforcement agents returned to Canada, and chronicled the journey in that pretty decent romantic comedy mentioned in a paragraph above.

Manary is also an experimental artist who has no clue how to write an Author's Bio, and definitely no idea how to end one.

He has only been in love once, and that didn't work out so well, but he dreams and dreams of that girl he's loved all along.  Can a taste of love be so wrong?
P.S. He is also a shameless plunderer of pop culture.

Author Links

Buy Link


 photo readingaddictionbutton_zps58fd99d6.png

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

'Tesla's Imprint' by Kimberly Adkins

Tesla’s Imprint
by Kimberly Adkins



Some things just can’t be erased.

Simon’s visions of a little girl are the only memories he has. Like an imprint on his heart, the visions cling. Who is she? Who is he for that matter? Tracked and hunted across the world, and in possession of a device that sets him apart from time and space, danger follows him at each turn.

He never meant to drag Tess into his drama. But with one slow, seductive dance in a candlelit night­club, that’s exactly what he’s done.

Tesla’s own heritage is a mystery in itself. Born of wealth into a corporation with no paper trail, she’s called back to take the helm. But what’s the nature of the business she’s supposed to lead? And how does it connect her to Simon?

Read an excerpt:
Simon leaned with his back against the door. The metal was searing hot through his layers of clothing, but he barely reacted to the burn. He understood the feeling that flooded through his being, the sense that the young woman from the nightclub was just on the other side of the frame. It was false, of course. Once the device opened the slice it automatically detached and became inactive. When the door closed she was a world away.

What am I thinking? He firmly banged his head against the solid door, tacky with hot paint. When he’d told her he made a promise, he couldn’t have been more serious – and more disturbed by his reaction to the encounter in the night club than he cared to admit to himself.

What could he possibly have to offer such a beautiful young woman after a dance like the one they shared? God, he didn’t even know who he was. The only thing he could even be sure about was that he was in danger, all the time.

He had to learn the truth about his past and why he knew the things he did without remembering them. Until then, the only thing he could be is a shadow on the edge of society. Everyone was safer that way.

He replayed the way she felt in his arms, how she stood on her toes to kiss his chin with her irresistible lips. She felt familiar to him in a way he hadn’t experienced for what seemed like a lifetime. It didn’t matter, though. He couldn’t let it matter. She was halfway across the world now, and all the better for it.

…besides, he had work to do.

Author Bio and Links

Kimberly Adkins is an author and artist who spends her spare time working on worm hole theories so she can go back in time and enter Star Gate’s ‘Get in the Gate’ sweepstakes as many times as it takes to win.

Says Kimberly of romance, “Fate lines up to reward the faithful who believe that love holds a power beyond our understanding and dreams have a chance to come true.”




Kimberly will be awarding a Kindle version of Tesla's Imprint to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during this tour and the Book Blast tour.

a Rafflecopter giveaway