July 16, 2019

Book Blitz + Giveaway: Lineage by C. Vonzale Lewis


 

Lineage
Author: C. Vonzale Lewis
Genre: Adult Fantasy

Publication Date: July 16, 2019

Description:

Smart-mouthed Nicole Fontane has a way of getting herself into trouble. She’s been fired from every job she’s had but still refuses to work in her father’s apothecary shop because of his practice of Earth Magick. On Tulare Island where Nicole grew up, Magick has always been a way of life—one she’s determined to avoid at all costs.

With less than two hundred dollars in the bank and rent due, Nicole is forced to take a job at Tribec Insurance as a last resort. Little does she realize, the moment she sets foot inside the building, she becomes a pawn. A sinister force has set its sights on her and will stop at nothing to use her in a sadistic game.

Tribec’s proprietors, the Stewart family, are curiously preoccupied with the Naqada, the mysterious pre-dynastic Egyptian society. Nicole finds it creepy, but on the bright side, the job reconnects her with her estranged friend, Marta. Yet the eerie atmosphere, disappearing Magick wards, and the smell of blood inside Tribec bring Nicole to a startling conclusion—the Stewarts are practicing Blood Magick, the deadliest of the Five Principles. By the time Nicole uncovers the truth, Marta and her four children have gone missing, and all signs implicate the Stewarts and an archaic blood ritual to an Old One, a Naqada god imprisoned on Tulare Island.

Battling the evil of Blood Magick will demand Nicole to confront a hidden past and unlock the Magick buried within. But can she set aside her deep-rooted fears to work with a team of vigilante Mages? Or will the clock run out on Marta and her children—and on Nicole?


CHAPTER ONE:

Looking for bright, responsible, career-oriented, self-motivated individuals who have excellent people skills and are able to take high volumes of calls while maintaining a positive attitude. Ability to work with others is a must.

I glanced down at the advertisement in my hand. I had none of those qualifications according to my last employer—and pretty much all my other previous ones as well. I was, however, a “foul-mouthed, bad-tempered, under-performing”—still didn’t understand that one—“sarcastic, waste of space.” Although, to be fair, only one of the previous employers actually called me a waste of space, and that was because I had stopped sleeping with him.

This unfortunate lack of options was the reason I stood in the parking lot of Tribec Insurance, smoking the last of my apple-flavored cigars—a habit I learned from my father—wearing a cream-colored dress suit and a pair of matching pumps. I couldn’t afford either of them, and I really hated pumps. But I needed the job, so I dressed the part of the career-oriented, self-motivated candidate the ad was searching for.

Most of the jobs in the area required a college degree, or at least several years of experience. I had no college degree, and the longest I’d ever been employed at one job was six months. Thankfully, Tribec Insurance was always hiring and had no such requirements—a rarity in the uptight community of Alice where Tribec was located.

Through a ring of cigar smoke, I took in the phallic structure that was Tribec Insurance. My eyes landed on the small, stone, pyramid-like shape at the top of the building. It reminded me of an Egyptian Obelisk—a symbol to the god Ra. The Egyptian word for it, “Tejen,” meant “protection” or “defense.”

Why would the occupants of Tribec Insurance erect a symbol of protection or defense on top of the building?

A slight breeze blew over my bare arms, carrying the salty scent of the ocean and stirring the beads of sweat that had formed on them. My new blouse had molded to my back, and my feet had started to sweat. I was generally used to Tulare Island’s oppressive heat, but the anxious jitters in my stomach had caused my skin to flush.

I tried to dispel the nervousness in my stomach. Despite the obvious, I didn’t want to show that I was desperate. My best friend Kara spent most of last night trying to prep me for the interview. She advised me to not ask annoying questions, make sarcastic comments, or let my disgruntled attitude show.

Essentially, she advised me to not be myself. There was a message in there somewhere, but I was choosing to ignore it.

Out of our original group in high school, Kara was the only one who was still in my life. The only one who actually gave a damn about me. Marta and I hadn’t spoken in years, and as for Steve… Well, it was a long time ago.

I glanced at my watch. Damn. I guess I had procrastinated long enough. I put out my cigar, grabbed my blazer from the front seat of my car, shoved the advertisement back in my overly large purse, and headed for the building. As I walked, I attempted to wrap my head around the fact that I was essentially asking Tribec Insurance to let me spend my days chained to a desk, listening to complaints from strangers.

Maybe I should look into prostitution. At least I’d enjoy the job.

Kara also told me to smile a lot, so I pasted one on, pulled open the glass door, and stepped inside. Only to stop dead in my tracks at the entrance.

The walls—painted a burnt gold color that reminded me of the sunset—were lined with Egyptian art. Four glass displays, filled with half-head replicas of deities and artifacts, sat in each corner of the room. Green foliage hung from black ceramic pots near the entrance and the elevator. Something was off about the elevator. It wasn’t stainless-steel. No, more like marble. Black marble with gold striations that, at first glance, appeared to be moving. Odd.

And everything, including the guard station—which sat sunken into the foundation in the middle of the floor—was set up in a spherical configuration. Directly behind the guard station was a set of mahogany double doors, with gold Egyptian hieroglyphs carved around the frame. They were also etched around the guard station.

Most people on Tulare Island either practiced one of the four principles of magick or knew someone who did. There was, however, a small group of people who, despite the evidence, still refused to believe in magick. They usually carried picket signs outside of herbal and occult shops, telling people they were going to burn in hell, not realizing they were actually practicing faith magick every time they went to church.

Judging from the set-up of the room, and even the obelisk on the top of the building outside, I could hazard a guess—more like an assumption—that the occupants of Tribec Insurance practiced magick.

Despite my assumption, I couldn’t figure out which of the four principles—earth, elemental, mind, or faith—the people at Tribec used. There was, however, a fifth principle—blood—that to my knowledge, no one practiced anymore. And sadly, I didn’t know enough about it to recognize any symbols associated with its practice. Yet, symbols from the other four were etched all over the walls. Odd. Especially since people only had the ability to practice one. Not all four.

If it was a job requirement for me to use magick, I was running the hell out of here. I would live in a cardboard box before I got involved with magick. And if I didn’t get a job soon, that was exactly where I’d be living. Especially since I refused to move back in with my parents. I had to grow the hell up sometime.

I moved farther into the lobby; the scent of desert sand wafted around me. It had that baked-on smell that emanated off the ground when the sun was at its peak. It was unusual, but the d├ęcor could explain the smell. Especially if they added sand to some of the displays for authenticity. The odor that was definitely out of place was the one directly underneath it.

Blood. It was faint. I could almost chalk it up to imagination. Almost. If it wasn’t so overpowering.

I moved forward cautiously, my heels clicking on the white-tiled floor, as I tried to pinpoint where the scent was coming from. But the farther away from the door I got, the less I smelled it. I turned and started back toward where I’d first detected the smell. A chair creaked, stopping me in my tracks. The space between my shoulder blades started to itch. I turned.

The guard behind the desk was watching me.

I stood there, debating whether or not I should just leave. Yes, I was desperate, but the smell of blood? Was I imagining it? I pulled in a deep breath, trying to find the scent again. 

Nothing.

Get it together, Nicole.

After a short pause, I shook myself mentally, and continued toward the guard station with the guard’s black eyes boring into me. Sizing me up.

“Can I help you, miss?” He rose to his feet and crossed his arms across his chest.

I placed him in his late twenties. He had a solid frame, close-cropped black hair, deep set black eyes, and no facial hair. The dark brown suit he wore looked as if it had been poured onto him. Had to be ex-military.

The gold tag on his shirt read “Oliver Strong.” It suited him.

“Yes, my name is Nicole Fontane, and I’m here for an interview with…” I set my purse on the counter, ignoring his pointed glare, and pulled out my tattered notebook. “…a Francine Delaporte at eleven.”

“Have a seat. I will call someone down to escort you.” He inclined his head in the direction of the red leather couch on the right.

“Okay, thanks,” I said as I mentally extended my middle finger. Everything about him rubbed me the wrong damn way.

I sat and placed my purse beside me on the couch—the damn thing weighed a ton—and picked up one of the brochures for Tribec Insurance. While I sat there leafing through it, another security guard walked up and blocked my view of the sun. Well, he would have if there had been one inside the building. This burly bastard had tree trunks for arms and a head that resembled a boulder. Did they chisel him from a mountain?

“Ms. Fontane?” the guard grumbled. It sounded as if his voice came from a gut full of rocks.
I stood, which put me at eye level to his massive chest and the name tag pinned to his shirt that read “Duncan Glass.”

Maybe when they hired their guards, they assigned them names as well.

“Yes.” I tried to push myself up a few inches more. I was already wearing three-inch heels, bringing my total height to five nine, yet this massive behemoth still towered over me.

“Follow me.” He spun around abruptly and led the way to the elevator.

I was tempted to salute him, or give him the finger—the damn bossy bastard.

Calm down, Nicole. You need this job.

Duncan pulled a card from his pocket and inserted it into a slot located on the right side. I guess that answered my question about the oddity of the elevator. Besides the strange composition, they didn’t have a call button. They sure did have a high level of security for an insurance company. Maybe they denied more claims than they approved. Greedy bastards.

When the doors slid open, Duncan extended his arm out. “Ms. Fontane.”

I stepped inside.

Once the doors were closed, he inserted his card into another slot, and a display lit up with a list of floors.

The number thirteen was among them.

I had once read somewhere that all older buildings either omitted the thirteenth floor or renamed it. It all stemmed from a superstition that the thirteenth floor was unlucky. I wasn’t superstitious, but I did find it interesting they chose to include it.

“They have a thirteenth floor,” I said.

“It comes after twelve.”

While I was no stranger to snide comments I really didn’t like others using them on me. 

Bastard.

A few moments later, the elevator doors opened and, thankfully, deposited us on the seventeenth floor. I followed Duncan to a set of offices in the center of the floor. He stopped at the first door in a row of three that faced the elevators. The silver name plate affixed to it read: Francine Delaporte. After he rapped on it three times, he planted his feet a few inches apart and placed his hands behind his back.

Maybe Duncan thought he was still in the military.

I took in the room while I waited. Cameras inside small black orbs dotted the ceiling. A hazy gray tint covered the windows, allowing minimal light to filter into the room. Industrial gray walls sported a few framed “inspirational” quotes that referred to “teamwork” and “having a positive attitude.” They even had the stupid “Hang in There” poster with a cat hanging off a wire.

Even the partitions that divided the employees’ desks were gray. The only break up in the ashen color were the fake wood desks.

It reminded me of a mental asylum.

The majority of the people in the office were women, with a few men thrown in here and there. Did they believe women were more suited to talking on the phone? Either way, everyone in the room was pasty, their eyes sunken in, wearing expressions that suggested they had given up on life. I wouldn’t have been surprised if they were all former tenants of the asylum, dressed up in over-sized clothes and forced into the role of “employee.”

The fact that no one looked up when Duncan and I got off the elevator supported my theory. They just sat there in their little black chairs, talking into their headsets, all repeating what sounded like the same practiced spiel in monotonous tones, a few minutes behind one another. Like a rolling set of waves crashing against the most boring shore imaginable.

I turned back to Duncan. He still stood at ease in front of Francine Delaporte’s door. What the hell was taking this woman so long? My feet were killing me. Like an idiot, instead of breaking the shoes in after Kara left last night, I had curled up on the couch with a bottle of Samuel Adams, contemplating my limited options. My little pity party of one ended at midnight when I realized my only option was one I wasn’t willing to entertain.

As I switched my purse from my right shoulder to my left, I caught sight of a faint circular line drawn around the cubicles. I stared at the ground, unsure if I was seeing things, or if there really was a line drawn on the floor. I straightened and moved to the left, trying to follow it. As I stood there transfixed, someone brushed their frigid hand across my exposed neck.

Coldness raced down my spine, and the scent of sand filled my nostrils.

I whipped around.

Duncan was gone.

In his place stood a woman wearing a red paint suit. Given that she was at least five feet away from me with her hands down at her sides… Who the hell had touched my neck?

Francine extended her hand and smiled. “Hello. Ms. Fontane?”

I stepped forward, my legs suddenly weak, and took her hand. “Hi.” I cleared my throat. 
“Yes, I’m Nicole Fontane.”

“I’m Francine Delaporte. Let’s get started.” She let go of my hand and walked into her office.

I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to warm the sudden chill that had settled there. I glanced around the room. The employees remained at their desks, staring rapt at their computer screens.

A cool breeze circled the room, pulling my gaze toward the ceiling. An air vent sat directly above me.

Before I entered Francine’s office, I glanced down at the floor. The markings were gone. 

Maybe I had imagined them. And maybe the air-conditioning explained the feeling of someone brushing their fingers across my neck.

Yes—for sanity’s sake, I was going to go with that.

Just my overactive imagination.
My name is Carla Vonzale Lewis and I like my martini’s shaken…never stirred. I was born in Georgia but please don’t mistaken me for a Georgia peach. I’m more like a prickly pear. Speaking of being born, someone asked me recently if I remember my birth. And I have to say, yes, I do remember that handsy doctor pulling me out into the cold. Right Bastard!!!
 

Despite being born in the South, I grew up in the North. California to be exact. Every once in a great while we get to experience all four seasons. But mostly, it’s just heat. You should see our electric bill in the summer! I like the beaches, but not the sand. I enjoy being outside, but the sun gets on my nerves. Does it really need to send its death ray to a single spot on my skin! (I told you I was a prickly pear) And don’t get me started on the traffic.
 

The first part of my life, I worked in customer service. This line of work led to the discovery of my favorite drink, or, rather, several favorite drinks. I could list the many concoction but that would go on forever!
 

Needless to say, it wasn’t an easy job. But I did enjoy talking with people. And when it came time to develop my characters, I drew on those experiences.
 

I have a degree in Fashion Design. Don’t ask. The only thing I gained from those wasted two years of my life, is being introduced to the love of my life, Bobby. He is truly my rock.
 

Why do I write? Well my first book, LINEAGE, answered the question, “What does the big boss actually do all day?” I might have gone a little dark with my answer, but it was fun answering the question. But mainly, I love writing because it gives me power to create. And it also gives me the power to fix this broken world.
 

Truthfully, I’ve always loved the written word and the way a good book could take you to another place and time. Instead of hanging out in the lunchroom, I would go to the library and create stories or bury my head in a really good book.
 

I started writing my first novel in 2014 and 30 days later I had a collection of scenes that needed some serious revision. And that was where the fun came in. Over the course of several years my novel went through final draft after final draft until I finally came to…you guessed it, the final draft.
 

When I’m not writing, I enjoy reading, binge watching shows on Netflix, and trying to convince my husband that getting a dog is a wonderful idea.
 

And one day, I will discover how many licks it actually takes to get to the center of a tootsie pop.



 
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Cover Reveal: Moon Cursed by Nikki Jefford


 

Moon Cursed (Wolf Hollow Shifters #4)
Author: Nikki Jefford
Genre: Adult Paranormal/Post-Apocalyptic/Romance
Publication Date: Fall 2019



Description:

Time is running out for Elsie.

Elsie’s coven always believed that she was moon cursed. Promised to the bear shifters before she was ever born, the witch wolf shifter has until her twentieth birthday to outsmart Brutus, her would-be mate who only wants her as payback.

To save his coven, her father made a terrible, magically binding agreement decades ago, never dreaming he’d have children, especially not powerful wolf shifters. Luckily, he never specified what type of shifter Elsie must claim.

Zackary doesn’t believe he deserves love or forgiveness.

Ever since he betrayed a packmate, Zackary has been making up for his sins. No matter what, he knows the truth. Once a mongrel, always a mongrel—just like his father always told him. Now the mad wolf has returned to torment Zackary and the pack.

Not one to be scared off, Elsie, the sweetest and loveliest of all females, refuses to believe he’s no good for anyone—especially her.

Fated mates or doomed lovers?

Zackary and Elsie never knew how strong their love would grow … until they’re in too deep.

Zackary betrayed Elsie’s brother once before. If the wizard shifter knew what he was doing with Elsie in private, Tabor would kill, maim, or use that dick shrinkage spell he once threatened him with.

With a meddlesome ex from her coven, who won’t let go, and a brute of a bear shifter intent on trapping her inside his cave forever, it will take more than magic to save Elsie from her curse.

Do these star-crossed lovers stand a chance?

Moon Cursed is a steamy, second chance romance about a bully longing for redemption, and a brazen she-wolf-witch who goes after what she wants—even after the entire pack warns her against following her heart.


Nikki Jefford is an award-winning, bestselling author of paranormal romance, urban fantasy, and quirky combinations in-between.

She is a third-generation Alaskan now living in the Pacific Northwest with her Westie, Cosmo, and her French husband, who she wouldn't trade in for anyone--not even Spike or Mr. Darcy!

When she's not writing, she's reading, walking, or out riding her motorcycle, a Honda CB500F, (so long as it's sunny and warm)!

To get in on the fun and adventure, visit Nikki at her website for release alerts, updates, exclusive giveaways, and a free story when you subscribe to her newsletter: http://nikkijefford.com/






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July 15, 2019

The Storm Crow Blog Tour: Review + Giveaway

https://fantasticflyingbookclub.blogspot.com/2019/05/tour-schedule-storm-crow-storm-crow-1.html



The Storm Crow (The Storm Crow #1)
Author: Kalyn Josephson 
Genre: YA Fantasy
Release Date: July 9, 2019
Publisher: SourcebooksFire
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Synopsis:

In the tropical kingdom of Rhodaire, magical, elemental Crows are part of every aspect of life...until the Illucian empire invades, destroying everything.

That terrible night has thrown Princess Anthia into a deep depression. Her sister Caliza is busy running the kingdom after their mother's death, but all Thia can do is think of all she has lost.


But when Caliza is forced to agree to a marriage between Thia and the crown prince of Illucia, Thia is finally spurred into action. And after stumbling upon a hidden Crow egg in the rubble of a rookery, she and her sister devise a dangerous plan to hatch the egg in secret and get back what was taken from them.
The Storm Crow is the first book in an exciting new YA fantasy series that fans will definitely want to pick up. I wasn't sure what to expect going in, so I kept an open mind and let myself be carried away. I'm so glad to say that it was much better than I hoped. There were so many fantastic aspects of the story. I loved the main character, Thia, and getting to know her throughout the book was great. She suffers a ton of pain and loss at the beginning of the story, but she finally regains her passion and tenacity and will stop at nothing to fix the wrong that has been done to her country and its people. Thia is a very complex and realistic character that I immediately connected with and I loved watching her change and grow during the novel. The story is told in the first person point of view, with Thia as the narrator. I loved this for two reasons: first because it's by far my favorite writing style and it allows me to fall into the character's world so much easier, and second because we get to really know the narrator on a deeply personal level. Both of these things allowed me to really understand and empathize with Thia and I was definitely rooting for her.

The plot wasn't wholly original - especially the warring countries and the horrible prince that the main character is forced to be with - but the author definitely puts her own mark on it. I absolutely loved the crows and the magic aspect of the book. I couldn't learn enough about them and what they did, how they had riders, and the magic that they used to help their country and people thrive. It was a really fascinating aspect to the story that I haven't seen before and it was a perfect fit with the rest of the plot. I'm glad that this is just the first book of the series because I definitely want to see what will come next. Highly recommended for fans of YA, fantasy, paranormal, and action/adventure.
Kalyn Josephson is a Technical Writer in Silicon Valley, which leaves room for too many bad puns about technically being a writer. She grew up in San Luis Obispo, CA, but now lives in the Bay Area with four awesome friends (because it’s the Bay and she’d like to be able to retire one day) and two black cats (who are more like a tiny dragon and an even tinier owl). When not writing YA Fantasy, she loves baking, reading, playing sports, and watching too many movies.

Win a finished hard copy of THE STORM CROW by Kalyn Josephson (INT) or a signed finished copy of THE CROW STORM by Kalyn Josephson (US Only)
** International as long as Book Depository ships to the country
Starts: July 9, 2019
Ends: July 23, 2019






Just My Luck Blog Tour: Excerpt + Giveaway


 

Just My Luck
Author: Jennifer Honeybourn
Genre: YA Contemporary Romance

Publication Date: July 16, 2019
Publisher: Swoon Reads


Description:

Marty has terrible luck and she knows exactly why. While working as a housekeeper at the ritzy Grand Palms hotel in Maui, Marty made it a habit to steal small items from the guests. What better way to stick it to the rich snobs they have to clean up after? Marty knows how to turn her luck around — she just has to return all of the items she stole.

When Marty meets Will, a new guest who is staying for the summer, she does the one thing she always promised herself she’d never do — fall for an out-of-towner. But Will’s special, different from the other guests at the hotel. Maybe Marty’s luck is finally turning around.

After a string of misunderstandings and accidents threaten Will and Marty’s relationship, Marty has to find a way to fix her luck for good — or say goodbye to Will forever.



“The tall one is cute.” 

I pick up a stapler, even though I have nothing to staple. “I didn’t notice.” 

Benjie scoffs. “When have you not noticed cute?” 

I frown. He’s right — every hot guy who crosses our path is usually up for immediate discussion. I don’t know why I’m being weird about Will. 

That’s a lie. I do know why — whatever it was that just passed between Will and me, it’s something I haven’t felt since Kahale. And look how that turned out. I don’t want Benjie to pick up on this, because he will never let it go. 

He sets the muffins in front of me. “You like him.” 

Okay, so obviously I’m not doing a very good job of hiding my feelings. 

“I don’t even know him,” I reply. 

“The beginning is the best part of a relationship.” Benjie sighs. “I remember those days.” 

“Those days were not that long ago,” I remind him. He’s only been with Aaron, one of the hotel’s chefs, for a couple of months. “And calm yourself. The last thing I’m interested in is a relationship.” 

“Fine — fling, dalliance, summer romance. Call it what you want,” he says. “I call it love.” 

I snort. “I talked to him for ten seconds.” And, okay, it was a pretty meaningful ten seconds, but still. Love is the furthest thing from what that was. 

I grab one of the chocolate chip muffins — one of the benefits of working with someone well connected to the kitchen — and take a large bite. I cry out as something crunches horribly in my mouth and an excruciating pain shoots through my gums. 

Benjie wrinkles his nose as I spit the muffin out into my hand.

“I think I just chipped my tooth.” 


“I don’t think that’s even possible,” he says. “Muffins are practically pre-chewed. There’s nothing to chip your tooth on.” 

But he moves a bit closer to me and peers into my mouth. “Oh my god!” he cries. “Half of your front tooth is missing!” 

I groan and run my tongue over the jaggedy edge of what’s left of my tooth. “Great.” 

“Maybe they can reattach it or something.” 

“It’s not like a finger,’ I say, but I dig the shard out of the spit-out remains of the muffin, just in case. My hands are shaking as I drop the shard of tooth into my pocket. 

I take a deep breath to try to calm my nerves. My luck seems to be getting worse with each passing day, and it’s starting to get to me. I’ve done everything I could think of to try and flip my karma — no sneaking out, no talking back to my mom (well, mostly), no taking things that don’t belong to me. I’ve picked up every penny I’ve come across on the street. I feng shui’d our entire house. I’ve hung horseshoes above my door, bought a rabbit’s foot — a faux one, but still. I even considered getting a four-leaf-clover tattoo, until I realized my mom would kill me dead, so I settled for a necklace with a charm of the lucky symbol instead. 

I’ve been a model citizen for an entire month. Nothing has worked. My luck still sucks. 

And I have no idea how to fix it.

Jennifer Honeybourn works in corporate communications in Vancouver, British Columbia. She’s a fan of British accents, Broadway musicals, and epic, happily-ever-after love stories. If she could have dinner with anyone, dead or alive, she’d have high tea with Walt Disney, JK Rowling, and her nana. She lives with her husband, daughter and cat in a house filled with books. Wesley James Ruined My Life is her first novel.





 
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July 14, 2019

Cover Reveal: Till I Found You by Michelle Fernandez


 

Till I Found You
Author: Michelle Fernandez

Genre: Adult Romantic Suspense
Publication Date: September 3, 2019



Description:


Former Navy SEAL, Julian “Booker” Cruz, joined an elite security ops agency with one goal in mind: to forget his past. With the overload of work, there’s no time for romance, nor does he want it. His rule—don’t mix business with pleasure. Until one assignment puts that rule to the test. Chloe Channing is not to discover his undercover role as her protective detail from an unknown psychopath. But as their days pass together in tropical paradise, it becomes difficult to keep his desire from compromising everything. Including her safety.

All Chloe wants is to remember, but so much of her memory was lost after her assailant left her unconscious. On a summer trip with friends at her family’s estate in the Bahamas, she yearns for the quiet respite from a previous heartbreak and her tortured nightmares. She never expects a man like Julian to help her find emotional peace and physical healing. But as she falls deeper, her flashbacks slowly come together, and they include glimpses of one handsome, mysterious, yet all-too-familiar face: Julian’s.

Is Chloe’s mind playing tricks on her again… or has she met this man before?

Even if Julian could let go and risk it all, could he ever forgive himself enough to fall in love again?



Michelle is a wife, mother and an avid reader of multi-genres. She's always been passionate about reading and impressed by the influence it has on people. Which is why she started writing in the first place. Romance suspense is her most favorite genre. The damsel heroine and the alpha gentleman hero are who she writes about. It started as a hobby. One chapter turned into ten, then a novel was born. Making up worlds and characters for readers to fall in love with, is the most rewarding for her. May her words give you the 'feels' and may it be an unputdownable book!






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July 12, 2019

Book Blitz + Giveaway: A Game of Sins by Zurie Brunelle


 

A Game of Sins (My Wicked Prayers #1)
Author: Zurie Brunelle
Genre: Adult Contemporary Romance
Publication Date: June 30, 2019



Description:


Kenzie Adams wasn’t expecting to fall for Luke Bennett, the young, sexy priest-in-training. When she propositioned him it was for just one night in the Game of Sins.

Kenzie’s new college roommates at St. Theresa’s, an all-girl’s Catholic college, invited her to join them in a competition, handed her a scorecard, and explained that there were points for every sin they convinced the priests-in-training at the adjoining school to make.

Luke Bennett was just to be the first conquest, not the only man she can touch.

But Father Luke teaches her the power of obedience, and the pleasure at the edge of pain. He knows how to make her crave every sin, and soon Kenzie’s scorecard is forgotten. Luke plans to be a man of the cloth, but right now he is the answer to Kenzie’s every wicked prayer.

When her father discovers her fall from grace, Kenzie’s future comes rushing to the present in the shape of a forced engagement to a sexy young lawyer, Bastian, who has demanded Kenzie as a “signing bonus” for selecting her father’s firm. Torn between the priest she loves and the lawyer she will marry, Kenzie tries to find a way to get both what she needs and what she wants.

Kenzie, Luke, and Bastian’s story will continue in the book 3. Her roommate Astrid’s Wicked Prayers will pick up in book 2.

Intended for readers 18+. Book 1 in the series.


“What if I wasn’t that nice?” It was a strange kick to be thought of as nice. My own family thought of me as a slut. They didn’t say the word, but it was obvious my father was thinking it.

I wasn’t sure I disagreed, either. Maybe I’d have been different in a different life, but I liked sex. I liked the illusion of power that it gave me. My life was utterly out of my control. I liked moments of control.

“You seem nice,” Luke said in that kind way.

“You’re wrong, but I like that you think so,” I said, and then I pushed him a little more. “Were you dangerous, father?”

“Yes.”

“I like dangerous.” I stepped closer, standing as close as I could be without being inappropriate. “Tell me more.”

He clenched his jaw and looked away. “I’m not sure what you’re trying to do here.”

“Flirt . . .?” I said it like it was a question, but it wasn’t.

He nodded to a group of seminarians. When they were gone, he asked, “Why?”

“I’m bored. You’re interesting.” I leaned in and stretched up on my tip-toes. “And you’re sexy.”

He stared at my mouth, so I let my lips part. I made an approving noise as his eyes dilated and then I whispered, “And I’m not actually sweet or nice. If you knew what I was really thinking, you’d know that.”

He said nothing more, simply motioned me forward and walked me to the dorms. Whatever happened next, I knew already that that he was interested. The question was if he was going to act on it.

We walked across campus in the dark. He stayed an appropriate distance from me, and I figured that I’d let him do whatever he chose. I’d given him the invitation, assured him that I was interested, removed the risk of rejection. I was a sure thing. Knowing that was typically enough to make a man go from maybe to yes.

Several quiet moments passed and then he glanced over at me. I smiled and lowered my gaze, waiting. We kept walking, and I said nothing more.

When we reached the place where he would have to leave me, he quietly accepted the bait I’d offered and asked, “What were you really thinking?”

“I was imagining you fucking me on the pool table,” I said. “I’ll imagine it when I’m in my room, naked in my bed, too. Think about it with every stroke.”

“You can’t—”

“Oh, I can, Father Luke,” I assured him. “Do you fuck slowly? Deliberately? Or would you pound into me, desperate from having had no release in so long?”

He stared at me. His breathing was heavier. He was picturing it, too.

So, I continued, “Or do you still touch yourself, father?”

Luke swallowed, staring at me and refusing to answer.

“I wish I could watch,” I told him.

“Kenzie...”

Before walking away, I smiled and added, “Forgive me, father. I’m about to sin.”

He still stared at me. I could feel his gaze burning me up. I looked over my shoulder. When I glanced back, he still stood there, watching me.

So, I blew him a kiss.
Zurie Brunelle considered a future in theology, but decided to become a teacher instead. She lives in a remote area with her partner and almost enough horses. She believes in God, the importance of joy, and that women ought to have a Constitutional Right to regular and frequent orgasms.









 
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