'The Marriage Bargain' Book Tour - Excerpt and $100 GC Giveaway

The Marriage Bargain

Camille Chandler is a tabloid journalist whose career is right on track--until her boss sees a curious ad in the L.A. Trades.
 

Wanted: Single actress for an extended gig abroad.

France's mega-rich playboy Julian de Laurent is up to something and Camille's boss expects her to find out what. Who knew the eccentric gazillionaire was looking to hire a temporary wife?


When Camille refuses to accept Julian's proposal--and secretly write a juicy tell-all about the de Laurent family--she's fired and left financially destitute, forcing her to entertain Julian's proposal for real. But what'll happen at the end of the contract period, after Camille has spent six months as the wife of a man she learns is capable of stealing her heart?


Check out an excerpt:

Julian gazed at Camille in her black dress with its crocheted look. It was sexy. An approving moan rumbled up his throat and he grabbed her hand, moving toward an inner wall inside the third floor salon. He glanced at her, winked and popped a wall panel open. 

A soft gasp escaped her. “What the....”

“There are tunnels all over the estate.” He coaxed her inside. “We’ll make our escape through here.” It beat running into Papa, Claudette, or Madeleine in the hallways.

“Ooh, I feel like a spy.” She giggled as they enter the dimly lit tunnel.

Julian chuckled. “Yeah. A spy whose sanity depends on her escape.” He quickened his pace. He wasn’t the only one well-versed in these tunnel paths. The quicker they got outside and through the gardens, the better.

They hurried through corridors, descended steps cut into the ground and rounded corners, all in near-darkness. Camille tightened her grip on his hand.  

“Don’t worry, Chéri. I know this place inside and out.”

“God, I hope so.” Her rich laughter wrapped him in amusement.

“We’re almost there,” he said in a low, husky voice. 

After a few more feet and another curve to the left, Julian gave Camille a tug and pulled her closer before stopping to push his way through the outside exit.  

The twilight of a setting sun filtered inside, casting a flattering glow over Camille. Her golden hair glistened like strands of lustrous glass, and he felt a ripple of excitement when her mouth curved into a tempting smile. 

“What are the chances somebody’s going to be waiting for us out here?” she asked, and he got the feeling she was trying to be funny. And she would be, so long as she wasn’t right. 

“I’ll let you know.” He checked the immediate area just outside the exit.

All clear. Good. Not that he was afraid to face them. But this was more fun. Sexy even. A faint light twinkling in her blue eyes told him she was just as excited.

Julian latched onto Camille’s hand. Joy bubbled over in her laughter as they raced along designated paths through the rose garden. Her happiness brought Julian a sense of satisfaction. It’d been a long time since he’d had this much fun. 

Adrenaline sped through him, increasing ferociously when the tunneled gateway to the river came into view. Just as he’d arranged, a speedboat was waiting at water’s edge, ready to assist them in their escape. 

 Julian helped Camille before climbing aboard. The boat thundered to life and the engine’s vibrations roared through him, stimulating his adrenaline and his aspirations. He’d taken plenty of boat rides, and with a number of girls including Madeleine, but none had aroused him like this ride with Camille. Maybe it was just the thrill of the escape. Yes. That had to be the reason.

Camille sat on the seat next to him, perched in a model-like pose. Her legs, long and tanned, rose from red shoes and traveled seductively up until they disappeared underneath a black cocktail dress riding midway up her thighs. He liked the dress when they’d bought it in London, and he liked it now—especially now, as he envisioned slipping his hands beneath the fabric in an exploring fashion.  

The boat charged down the winding river and a warm summer’s wind whipped Julian’s hair around wildly. Raking it back, he looked at Camille. Their gazes met, and a faint delicate flush glowed against her face.

 Buy on Amazon / Nook / Paperback 

About Sandra - I write in a variety of genres such as paranormal (mostly time travel and reincarnation), contemporary, and suspense. While all my tales hold an element of romance, my books often push the envelope and step outside the boundaries of conventional romance.



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  Prize - 4 of Sandra Edward Books in Print and a $100 Amazon Giftcard

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'Hell Town' Book Blast

Welcome to the Hell Town Book Blast! Check out this new book and then enter the Rafflecopter below to win a $100 Amazon gift card.
 

Hell Town

Members of a paranormal reality show and the small town they investigate become victims of a deadly demon, awaken by a seemingly harmless board game. Will the TV ghost hunters be able to stop the demon and close the portal to Hell, or will they make a fatal mistake that seals the town’s fate?

Buy Links:

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Smashwords

About the Author

R. Nightshade lives in Hillsboro, Ohio, and is excited to be the fascinating new name in horror storytelling. Her philosophy is that while monsters and bloody ax murderers are fine, truly horrifying stories come from scenarios that could very well be real. Nightshade's works will include stories of the paranormal, and the ever-waging battle between good and evil on Earth. And, she promises to throw in some monsters because they are, after all, the classic staple of American horror.

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Excerpt from "The Birth of Paisley" by Amy Browne from 'If'

I have been friends with several of the contributors to the Circle 8 Writers anthologies for a few years now. Today's excerpt from their collaboration If comes from my good friend Amy Browne.

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 "The Birth of Paisley" by Amy Browne:

The baby settled down and relaxed. She looked in the eyes of the older woman.

While Ruth peered into the baby's eyes, a bond was created. “You have another telepathic child, Irena.”

“I should have guessed she was,” Irena sighed. “Cadence did seem to connect with the baby.”

“This one may very well have a lot in common with Cadence, and it will be good for both of them,” Ruth replied.

“She also has little birthmarks on her head. Sylvia found them earlier,” Irena said as she parted her daughter's hair to reveal the tiny coffee-colored marks.

“Oh,” Ruth exclaimed. She glanced at the tiny area where her daughter had parted the newborn’s hair. “Why, those are tear drop shaped marks. There are four of them.”

Irena stiffened her body without realizing it. She knew exactly what that meant. The child of the prophecy had been born. 

Buy links: Kindle | Paperback

Author bio:

Amy Browne discovered her passion for writing as a teenager in Athens, Pennsylvania. The many twists and turns in her life have added more water to her writing wellspring. The same traits that make her a successful single mom- dedication, commitment, and organization shine through in her writing.

Ms. Browne writes for various online and print publications. Very much a family person, she enjoys writing fiction that speaks to your heart and soul.

'Destiny Unveiled' Book Tour Promo with Giveaway

Destiny Unveiled

Gabriella and Darron thought their magickal battle was over when they defeated the evil warlock, Richard. When her Aunt Donna seeks Gabriella's help in rescuing her catatonic daughter from the Dark Coven, Gabriella discovers that her cousin holds a power within her that would be catastrophic in the hands of the evil witches. Gabriella's coven sets out on a journey that may be their last. Along the way, they meet new allies, face devastating treachery, and battle not only the Dark Coven, but the darkness within themselves. When Gabriella finally comes face to face with the cousin she never knew existed, her true destiny is unveiled, and the fate of the mortal world is in her hands.

Purchase Book 1 of this series, Destiny, for only $.99 on Amazon. Purchase Destiny Unveiled on Amazon.

About the Author

Laura “Luna” DeLuca lives at the beautiful Jersey shore with her husband and four children. She loves writing in the young adult genre because it keeps her young at heart. In addition to writing fiction, Laura is also the sole author of a popular review blog called New Age Mama. She is an active member of her local pagan community, and has been studying Wicca for close to eight years.

Follow the author Website | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads

Prize - signed copy of Destiny & Destiny Unveiled, two boxes of incense, a crystal point and a few dessert rose stones.   Fill out the form below to enter to win. Open US/ Can Ends October 14 a Rafflecopter giveaway

'I Am Just Junco' Book Series Blitz

Welcome to the Release Day Blitz for the series I Am Just Junco by J.A. Huss. Find out more about the books in the series, read some excerpts and then enter the giveaways!

Clutch

Book One I Am Just Junco

By J.A. Huss

BLURB

In 2152 the avian race is on Earth looking for something stolen from them decades ago – their genetics. At the center of the search lies the Rural Republic; a small backwards farming country with high hopes of military domination and a penchant for illegal bioengineering.

19 year old Junco Coot is the daughter of the Rural Republic’s ranking commander. She’s the most foul-mouthed, wildly unpredictable and ruthless sniper the Rural Republic has ever trained. But when her father’s death sparks a trip into forbidden places, she triggers events that will change everything she knows to be true.

As an elite avian military officer, Tier’s mission is to destroy the bioengineering projects, kill Commander Coot’s daughter, and return home immediately. There’s just one problem. Junco isn’t who she claims to be.

With no one to trust, not even herself, Junco must confront the secrets of her past and accept her place in the future, or risk losing herself completely.

Book Trailer: http://youtu.be/Iz0PWDGoTJY 

'The Death of Jack Nylund' Book Blitz

Welcome to the Release Day Blitz for The Death of Jack Nylund, hosted by Bewitching Book Tours!

The Death of Jack Nylund

Gods and Monsters Book One

By David F Porteous

Genre: Urban Fantasy

ISBN: 978-1-291-03025-9

Number of pages:127

Word Count: 37,000

Cover Artist: Rob Moran

Book Description:

America, 1922. Ten years have passed since The Lines went up, dividing the States and the world into isolated pockets. The oligarchs are gangsters, titans of industry, monsters – the secret masters of mankind. They have endured a decade of cold war stalemate – but with forces equally weighted, the life of one man might be enough to change the fate of all men.

US Federal Marshal Clay Falk must bring Jack Nylund to New York. For the Marshal and his deputies the financial rewards are enormous, but in a landscape of shifting loyalties Falk is soon made a counter-offer he can’t refuse. The war can be ended in a single night – the price is the honour of a legend and the life of a god.

Private Investigator Walter Black has no idea his latest missing person’s case is the balance on which the world rests. Jack Nylund’s sister is dying and Walter must track Jack’s scent across America, through ruined lives, secret addictions and unforgettable pasts. The enemy he must overcome is one he’s all too familiar with. The cost of his failure would be the death of Jack Nylund.

Read an excerpt:

“This is a picture of him from 1919, just after the war, looking like he slept in that uniform all the way from France. He still had that face, but he wasn’t the same. I know there’s men who came back changed: the Paterson boy up in Brownville hung himself that summer. Nobody talked about it much, and I suppose that was for the best. But Jack wasn’t like that; it hadn’t been a terrible thing for him, I don’t think. Or if it had been, then it was one of those terrible things you get through and it sets you free.” She said it in a deliberate, emotionless voice and finally passed the small black and white photograph to Walter Black.

Mary Howard’s hands and the photo smelled of Johnson’s Baby Powder and Ivory soap.

“I knew the truth before he did,” she said. “About this place. About him. He’d come back from the war having seen the world and, well, I can’t imagine what else. He’d grown a head taller, but Auburn was still a small town; too small for him. Sure enough, he was gone before the winter set in.”

“This is your only picture?” he asked.

“It’s the most recent one. I have couple of older photos of him with our mother. I don’t suppose those would be much use to you. I hope he still looks like this: can’t imagine him as anything else. Is it enough?”

“You said he wrote to you,” he reminded her.

“From hotels. I think only because there was paper and he had nothing to do. Backwards, forwards, ‘cross a dozen states: as far east as Chicago and then three months later Baton Rouge and Beaumont, Texas. I kept all of them, wrote back the day I got each one, but I doubt he saw more than a handful of my replies. And so what? What stories did I have to tell him? Then a year ago the letters stopped. It was just after the baby came and before Arnold – that was my husband – before he passed away. For a couple of months I’d wait for the postman every day and some days he even had a letter for me. But it was never from Jack. His last one was from the Ramsay in Des Moines. I wrote there so many times the hotel manager wrote back asking me to stop.”

“Can I see the letters?” Walter asked.

“Of course, let me—” She was cut-off by the sudden, sharp cry of the baby in the other room. “Like as not, he’ll need changing. Can you give me a few minutes?”

He waited at the table and took another sip of the cheap, bitter coffee. The kitchen was clean, and worn from use and cleaning. The stove was older than the house around it, cannibalised from another home no grander than this one. A sink of similar ancestry was attached to the wall by iron bolts and stained with tears of indelible orange rust.

Mary Howard returned with a shoebox of letters under one arm and a wide-eyed child pressed to her side by the other. Her son – whose looks strongly favoured his mother – was Arnold Jack Howard.

“Pleased to meet you Mr Howard, I’m Walter Black,” he said and extended his hand. The boy grabbed the top half of his thumb and beamed a toothless smile. “That’s quite a grip you have there.”

Mary sat back down and placed the collection of letters on the table. “You have a way with children Mr Black; little Jack doesn’t usually take to strangers.”

He asked, “May I see them?”

Her eyes followed his and with surprise she noticed the hand perched on top of the box, its fingers gripping the cardboard, like something precious beyond value, like a handhold on the edge of a precipice. Recognising the hand was hers, she exhaled and let go.

“I don’t know what use they’ll be. But if you need them, that’s fine. I have most of them memorised.”

He sorted the envelopes by eye. Four different sizes, eleven different shades of cream and white, one blue. Postmarks from fourteen states; nothing east of Chicago, Illinois, nor anything west of Grand Junction, Colorado. They smelled of the house and the shoebox and woman who had read them uncounted times. A handful were from Des Moines, but he lifted three others that looked the same and found a return address pre-printed onto the flap of each: Savoy Hotel, Kansas City.

As tactfully as he could, Walter Black said, “You should prepare yourself for the possibility—”

“That he’s dead? I know.”

“You should prepare yourself for the possibility that he’s alive and doesn’t want to come back.”

She replied in that same flat voice, “I need you to find him Mr Black. If he’s dead then I don’t know what I’ll do, but if he’s alive he’s got no choice. My son is all that matters to me now and he’ll need someone when I’m gone.”

Mary Howard’s heart would not last the year, so the doctors said. Her mother died of the same thing at thirty-seven, though Mary was only twenty-eight. Stress, they called it; stress had cut her years as a grown woman in half, cut her time as a mother to nothing.

Walter continued, “This isn’t as simple as making a few calls or writing some letters.”

She held herself straight-backed as he explained his terms.

The blue cotton dress she wore had a small mending stitch at the shoulder. He’d seen this dress a hundred times on as many women. Such as it was, it was certainly the nicest thing she owned and she had worn it as much for herself as for him.

“I know the price,” she said, “and I will pay it.” Her desperation and the defiant setting of her jaw was a promise she couldn’t break. They didn’t discuss payment again.

“I’ll leave in the morning for Kansas City and call you if I find anything there.” He stood and picked up his hat from the table, taking the photograph and a selection of letters, as many as he could fit in a pocket.

“I don’t have a telephone,” she said.

“I’ll write you, unless I can bring him back with me faster. Or unless it’s not news you’d want to get by letter.”

She rose to show him to the door and replied, “I’ll wait for your letters, then.”

Buy links: Paperback \ Kindle

 

About the Author:

David F Porteous is a social research consultant and author of the novel Singular and the forthcoming Gods & Monsters series. The following are randomly selected biographical details about David - hit refresh to learn more.

Early Life

David attended Cockenzie and Port Seton Primary School where he learned to spell and write his name in cursive. The value of these once impressive skills has been substantially undermined by subsequent technological developments.

Influences

His favourite authors include Iain Banks, George V. Higgins, Douglas Adams, Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett.

Other Interests

In his teens and early twenties he used to write poetry. People shouldn't try to find it; none of it was good.

Professional Work

In 2002 he graduated from Edinburgh Napier University with a degree in Marketing Management. His honours dissertation asserted that there was a bright future ahead for DVD rental stores. Over time this assertion proved to be both wrong and stupid. (He is not giving back the degree).

www.dfpiii.com

@dfpiii

www.goodreads.com/dfpiii

https://www.facebook.com/pages/David-F-Porteous/152857534755485

 

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'My Familiar Stranger' Book Tour

My Familiar Stranger

By Victoria Danann

The Order of the Black Swan #1

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Publisher: 7th House

Date of Publication: April 21, 2012

ISBN: 978-1-933320-49-6

ASIN: B007V8RAKW

Number of pages: (estimated 370)

Word Count: 111,268

Purchase Links: Amazon  Smashwords

BOOK TRAILER: http://www.youtube.com/embed/wIDjWBWHg2k  

Book Description:

Minutes ahead of inevitable assassination, Elora Laiken is forcibly transported to an alternate dimension similar, but not identical, to her own. She is stranded. Alone. Far from home. A stranger in a "strangish" land.

Of course a girl could suffer worse problems than having gorgeous suitors. Perhaps more importantly, in the midst of an epidemic of vampire related abductions, can she stay alive long enough to choose between an honor debt, true love, or the breathlessness of single-minded passion?

My Familiar Stranger is a full length, stand alone, Paranormal Romance novel that also sets up the foundation for the Black Swan series. It is loved by fans of paranormal romance, fantasy romance, and urban fantasy.

Erotica quotient: A few steamy scenes. No menage. No BDSM.

Read an excerpt:

When she stepped over the multiple grooves of the titanium threshold, the tension in the room was so palpable she almost swayed.

Ram was sitting on a counter, breathing into a paper bag and was so angry he couldn’t even look her in the face. When she had gone to sit within arm’s reach of Baka, he had lunged for the door, spinning the vault wheel and screaming, “Get her out! Get her out right now!”

Kay had been forced to grip Ram in a bear hug from behind and immobilize him long enough to say, “If she hears the vault opening, it will surprise her. She’ll be distracted and look away from him. We can’t take that chance. You understand me? We don’t have any choice but to let her play it out her way.”

Ram had stilled and nodded, but, for the first time in his life, was having trouble getting breath. A nurse arrived within four minutes with a paper bag solution. Storm and Kay had wanted him to go to the little infirmary, but a legion of demons could not have dragged him from that room before seeing her safe.

“What’s the matter with him?” Elora asked looking from Storm to Kay, nodding toward Ram.

Storm wheeled on her booming. “He’s scared to death! That’s what’s the matter! Every one of us could just…” He held his hands up in a clutching gesture indicating that he would like to strangle her. All the while he was visibly clenching and unclenching his teeth in a most unattractive way.

Suddenly he turned on Ram, “For every time I have ever called you reckless or psycho or accused you of having a death wish, I take it all back. She makes you look downright timid.”

Ram lowered the bag from his face long enough to say, “Lay off. ‘Tis done.”

“Are you okay?” Elora asked Ram. He gave her a murderous glare and went back to breathing through the paper bag. “Wow. It looks like there was some serious drama on this side of the mirror.”

“Oh! Sweet,” Storm said sarcastically. “Tell me something. Do you care about us at all?”

Taken aback by that accusation, Elora’s mouth fell open. “What do you mean? Of course.”

“Ms. Laiken,” Kay began, “emotions were running a little high because of fear. For you. And, from this side of the glass, it seemed like you were sort of asking for it.”

“It? Asking for it as in getting bit?”

Kay nodded.

Elora looked around the room. "So it's Ms. Laiken now is it?"

She really hadn’t thought she would cause this much anxiety. After all, these were people who hunt vampire every day. Going from face to face though, she saw that those who weren’t downright angry were solemnly grim and she decided she should soft pedal.

“Okay. I’m sorry if I gave you cause for concern." She looked pointedly at Storm and Ram. “But I was the one in the situation and I had to follow my own instincts.”

“Cause for concern?” Storm first gaped at her, then turned his face to the wall and let out a roar of frustration. He wasn’t used to containing the sort of emotion that threatens to boil over into torrents of rage. He turned and took two steps in Elora's direction so that he was standing over her. “Inoculations can’t save you if your jugular is sliced in two.” He held his hand in front of her face, thumb and first finger twitching together. “And you were this close. Even you wouldn’t recover from that.”

Elora’s own temper was beginning to crowd her composure. “That’s just it, Storm. I wasn’t in any danger. I’m sorry you were needlessly worried, but you’re going to have to learn to trust me.” He hissed out his aggravation then dropped his hands to his sides as if to say he was giving up.

“What if I had told you I was going to rehabilitate Blackie? We both know you would have forbidden me to go near him. Blackie would have been sentenced to live out his life being tormented by that sadist.”

“Please tell me you are not comparing that thing,” he pointed to the glass, ”to an abused dog! If you’re saying you have plans to domesticate Istvan Baka, then you need to double down on your therapy sessions.”

She recoiled as she instantly reordered her reality. A moment ago she had thought Storm incapable of deliberately hurting her.

He knew it was harsh, but he didn’t care. He wanted to shock her into sound judgment.

Elora narrowed her eyes as her fists clenched while she was deciding whether or not to punch him.

Ram might have wanted to throttle Elora himself, but his instinct to protect was stronger. He jumped down from the counter and moved in front of Storm so that he stood between them. “That’s enough!” He stayed long enough to make certain Storm knew he was serious, then threw the paper bag down in disgust and stalked out of the room without looking back, taking the door to the stairs instead of the elevator, and letting it slam shut behind him.

Everyone else stood silent for a time. After awhile, Storm’s breathing started to slow. Kay leaned back against the control cabinet, put his hand over his mouth and shook his head.

Elora glanced toward the glass to see Baka still standing near the fire, looking at them like he was watching the entire scene play out, hearing every word.

**My thoughts**

For the Love of a Vampire

What is it that is so damn appealing about vampires? I am still trying to figure this out, after almost a year of finally reading vampire books.

As legend has it, I hadn't read anything about vampires, other than Dracula. I first read it back in junior high for my English class. Yeah, I enjoyed it, but I wasn't enrapture by it. I managed to avoid True Blood and Twilight. I did try to watch TB on HBO once and I hated it within a minute. I felt dirty even thinking about trying to read or watch Twilight. I still can't make myself do it.

And then, I finally succumbed to Jennifer Malone Wright's frequent posts about her book The Vampire Hunter's Daughter Part 1 always being free on Amazon. I thought I would just get it over with, read it, hate it, and review it and be done. I pulled it out while the man was seeking the perfect street hockey sneakers. I finished it before he had even selected a pair. I was hooked.

I went home and I continued to download the series. I teased Jenn mercilessly about hooking me in. I was secretly annoyed, yet intrigued at the same time.

And then Christie Silvers was looking for beta readers for her Liz Baker series. I was home sick and stayed up half of the night reading the first book. The second and third soon followed. Okay, a new fan was born.

Recently I have gotten into H.P. Mallory's books. I'm working on a few other similar types of series. I am willing to take some of them for reviewing. I enjoy the stories, but I just don't see why vampires are sexy. The only thing I can figure out is that they can hypnotize you, therefore making you fall into deep lust.

What am I missing, vampire fans?

'Winter's Magic' Book Tour Promo

Welcome to the Winter's Magic Book Tour!

Winter's Magic is coming out Nov. 1. Celebrate with us starting October 1 and lasting all month long culminating to a release day party November 2! Winners will be picked and announced at the party. (emailed too) RSVP to the Facebook Party HERE

Book Blurb:

Owner of La Bella Vita, a five-star day spa nestled in the affluent suburbs of Nashville, Tennessee, Beth Sergeant knows her elite clientele first hand. She attended their private schools. She was even engaged, although briefly, to one of their most recognized bachelors. But she never fit in to their social-elite world.

After losing his parents to a car accident at a young age, Nick Chester was raised by his grandfather, the wealthiest man in Nashville. When he chooses to socialize, he has a never-ending list of exclusive events and beautiful women vying for his attention. Yet he never lets himself forget that everyone has an agenda.

Beth can’t resist Nick’s charm and accepts an invitation to dinner, despite her deep-seated insecurities. She proves she’s nothing like other women Nick's dated and learns to trust him in return. But just as the last of their resistance crumbles and true love is within reach, challenges from Nick's past threaten to destroy everything and force Beth to reveal her most guarded secret.

Visit Cynthia Gail's Blog for Extra Entries for Fun Prizes HERE

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'Revamp' Book Tour Promo

Welcome to the book blast for Revamp, hosted by Promotional Book Tours!

Revamp
 
FOR THREE DAYS, IT WAS DARK.

News reporters scrambled. This was the biggest story to come along in weeks. They called it a blackout.

The last one was in New York City in 2003, but this one was different, special, because the grids in six major cities across the country had been fried, kaput, see-you-next-Sunday. Everyone with some jurisdiction blamed each other, and when there was no one left to blame, terrorism rode in on its gallant steed.

It was the media’s fault. They were so busy stuffing fanatical Muslims with a penchant for Allah and decapitations down the American citizen’s throat, that they never saw it coming. I guess I shouldn’t be too hard on them.

They were partially right.

It was terror after all, but a whole new kind. And when the lights came back on, things had changed.

The dark had brought us visitors.

Kindle / Paperback

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