Thursday, March 28, 2019

Release Blitz: Ravenous Innocence by Myra Danvers

Ravenous Innocence Tour Graphic
Ravenous Innocence
Series: The Last Tritan Book 1
Genre: Adult Fantasy, Dark Fantasy, Science Fiction, Fantasy
Publication Date: February 1, 2019
His people took everything from me, and Goddess be damned if I won't take it back.
“I’ll be good to you,” he purred and swept his thumb over my pendant, caressing. His ki surged into my mind, hammering at me with a soothing promise, abusing the link he’d left behind with a kiss. “You’ll never want for anything…”
Asher promises to teach me the forbidden while my city—my home—burns at his back. Because of him, Tritan falls, and the Caledonian forces take the best of my people for their own sick uses.
To fight, those of us who remain must flee. Regroup, or submit.
But he’s coming, hunting me, and Asher won’t stop until I wear his mark. Until my goddess-given power is his to command.
He’s tasted my lips and fed me nothing but lies, but his betrayal has given me strength even he didn’t expect.
His people took everything from me, and Goddess be damned if I won’t take it back.

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Excerpt

A low groan rumbled in his throat, and he swallowed, catching my wrist in a much larger hand. For a long moment, he simply stared down at me, but when my tongue darted out to wet lips dried by searing winds of ki and living shadows, something in him snapped. I felt it happen. Even before he pressed his lips to mine, I felt it.
Warm and soft, his kiss spoke of the forbidden. The impossible. Making my core clench with unnatural speed and fervor as ki whirled between us. Sending blood surging in delicate tissue. All around us. Invisible to the hoards of sightless mundane going about their business a scant few feet away, where only their shades could see us. The scrape of a day-old beard dragged a splintered groan from my chest, and, hands slipping down my back, he seized the taut globes of my bottom. Spreading me.
Pulling me closer.
Would that he could drag me inside his skin, where I could drink him dry and soothe this blessed, painful ache.
His teeth traced my lower lip, filling my lungs with breath and heated ki, pressing a thick bulge against my belly.
I gasped, drinking him in, demanding more. Gorging until my every cell was filled to bursting. Drawing on him as heavily as I drew upon his lips. Needing it. More. There would never be enough.
A puff of breath warmed my cheek when he twisted, breaking away from my lips with a curse, his fingers bunching the fabric of my shift. Inching it indecently high. But he drew back, setting his forehead against mine. Petting my hair back with calloused hands. Obsidian eyes concealed behind scrunched eyelids, labored breath leaving my skin damp. “God, the taste of you, girl.” He released my bottom and cupped the back of my neck, forcing me to still. “What are you?”
“I’m—” my voice cracked, and I cleared my throat, blinking as the world settled around us. Dazed, I squinted up at the man, admiring the rugged, handsome features so different to my own. Alien. Bronzed skin, muscular frame, dark hair and darker eyes—everything I wasn’t.
A Caledonian.
Kissing a Caledonian Elite in public? Had I lost my damned mind? My father would…
Nothing.
My father wasn’t here. And I hadn’t had enough. Not now. Not ever.
I buried my fist in his hair, pulling him back. Driven by instinct I didn’t recognize as my own. By a needy itch below the skin, the likes of which I’d never felt before. Before him..."

About Myra Danvers

Raised by her awesome parents in Canada's snowy north, Myra learned perseverance from an early age. She learned to speak in third person, via extensive reading as a child, because... well... Northern Canada gets a LOT of snow. And when one isn't snowboarding, building quinzees, or waking up to teddy bears frozen to the floor, one tends to read about places that are warm--even if being cold is preferable to being hot, every-damn-time.
All that reading gave Myra the gypsy bug. So, after college, (where she majored in professional gypsying) she moved to a ski resort in British Colombia to be a ski bum and chase the winter, because the cold was in her bones and it never bothered her anyway. (Points because Elsa of Frozen is her spirit animal?)
But then life caught up with her, as it does, and now she's stuffed full of enough life experience to write until transcendence (where she will be first in line to get a sweet android body and travel the universe until the end of time). So that's what she does, when she's not listening to the voices or taking apart the electronics just to see their insides.
Social media links: Facebook | Facebook Group | Instagram | Twitter

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Tuesday, March 12, 2019

New Release + Giveaway: Salvaging Truth by Joanne Jaytanie

Salvaging Truth Tour Graphic
Salvaging Truth
Series: Hunters & Seekers Book 1
Genre: Romantic Suspense, Thriller, Suspense, Military Action, Action/Adventure
Publication Date: January 31, 2019
The world could be transformed if Riley can only stay alive long enough.
Most parents leave you a house, a car, or money when they die. Riley’s mom left her a treasure hunt with a mysterious payoff. Now everyone seems to want a piece of Riley and her inheritance: the university, the military, mega corporations, and Russian spies.
Riley needs help to solve her mother’s murder, and Dagger Easton’s salvage and investigation company comes to her rescue. Retired SEAL, private eye, and leader of a diving and salvage team, Dagger promises to protect Riley with his life. But as the value of her mother’s research becomes clear, Riley begins to believe there’s no one she can trust—not with her life, her heart, or her mother’s legacy.

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Excerpt

Riley gazed at the clock next to her bed for the tenth time in the past twenty minutes. She was mentally exhausted, yet her mind refused to shut down and let her rest. She closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep.
Crreeeak…
She sat up ramrod straight and listened in the darkness. She strained to hear any other sound out of place.
The crickets and frogs chirruped. Off in the distance a red fox cried out—exactly like a woman screaming. Then a scraping sound…so close.
The crickets and frogs abruptly stopped.
She held her breath, one, two, three, heartbeats.
The chirruping returned.
Slipping both legs out from under her covers, she placed her feet on the floor as soundlessly as possible. Slowly shifting her weight, she stood up and tiptoed to the door. She crept out of her room and headed for the stairs where she stopped and listened.
It was a moonless night, and she couldn’t see more than a few feet, but growing up in this house she felt comfortable moving in the near blinding darkness.
She moved onto the first stair and stopped. Making sure of her footing she skipped the next stair knowing it would squeak and gracefully landed on the one below. All the while keeping her hands away from the shaky banister that her dad had promised to fix years ago. She continued down the remining stairs, stepping only on the solid treads. She moved toward the front door. The security system wasn’t active. Had she set it before bed? She couldn’t remember. Cracking the door open she slipped out into the night.
Out of nowhere, a massive hand covered her mouth and an arm wrapped around her waist. She tried to scream, but the man yanked her back and knocked the wind from her lungs.

About Joanne Jaytanie

Joanne Jaytanie
Joanne writes romantic suspense, paranormal, supernatural suspense, and contemporary romance. She loves to submerge herself in the world of her characters, to live and breathe their lives and marvel at their decisions and predicaments. She enjoys a wide variety of books including paranormal, suspense, thriller, and of course romance.
Joanne was born and raised in Sherburne, New York, a quaint village surrounded by dairy farms and rolling hills. From the moment she could read she wanted to explore the world. During her college years she slowly crept across the country, stopping along the way in Oklahoma, California, and finally Washington State, which she now proudly calls home. She lives with her husband and Dobermans, in their home located on the Olympic Peninsula with a panoramic view of the Olympic Mountains.
Joanne is a PAN member of Romance Writers of America, (RWA), Kiss of Death, (KOD), Greater Seattle Romance Writers Chapter, (GSRWA), Sisters In Crime (SIC), and Fantasy, Futuristic & Paranormal, (FFPRWA). She served as President of Peninsula Romance Writers, which was Debbie Macomber’s home chapter.

Giveaway

WIN $10 AMAZON GIFT CARD
Salvaging Truth Giveaway Graphic
Prizes up for grabs:
$10 Amazon Gift Card
Contest runs from March 12 - 18, 2019.

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Tuesday, March 5, 2019

Book Spotlight + Giveaway: Year of the Demon by Tara Fox Hall

Year of the Demon
Series: Unhallowed Love Book 2
Genre: Paranormal, Erotic Romance, Contemporary Romance
Publisher: Melange Books
Publication Date: February 19, 2019
Will a demon-hunting priest and a wizard bent on world dominion end Shaker’s happiness with his human Mistress Debbie?
CEO Debbie and demon Shaker’s first year of partnership was a smashing success for both Pandora Productions and their own new intimate relationship, ending with the announcement of their engagement last New Year’s Eve. Shaker now inhabits a human host, Pandora’s rising action star Jett Black, putting the possibility of a family within Debbie’s tentative grasp as the couple pledges their love at the altar. But as before, one crisis after another ensues, beginning with Titan’s push to assimilate Pandora and the death of Debbie’s father, bringing her back together with her estranged family, and into the sights of a demon-hunting priest, Father Matthew, who will stop at nothing to not only send Shaker back to the Hell he came from, but also ensure Debbie is free of sin…permanently. When Shaker is sent back to Hell, Debbie is left bereft, her team of allies decimated, her best friend in a coma, she must decide if she will succumb…or rise from the ashes and fight ruthlessly for everything she loves, no matter the cost.

Excerpt

“Go in,” Myrrh cajoled.
Debbie hesitantly went up the stairs of the church. Being a Saturday afternoon, the doors were closed, and no one was around. Debbie grasped the handle with a half-hearted tug, expecting it not to budge. Instead, the door opened smoothly, and she stepped inside. She approached the side of the altar, where candles were lit for those who had passed. She put in a donation, then lit one.
“You weren’t on the list,” she said tentatively, then cracked a smile. “But I’m sorry, Jett. This light’s for you. You weren’t a good man, and I still think that Shaker made you a much better one in the time he was with you. But please forgive me if you think I wronged you. And I hope you are at peace, for what happened to you.”
In succession, Debbie made more donations and lit candles, naming off the people she knew Shaker had harvested, including Amanda. As she closed the brief prayer for her former secretary, there was an angry hiss from behind her. Debbie wheeled around, lit taper in her hand. The ghost of Celia was there with glowing yellow eyes, her grin ghastly. “You think you can light a few candles and be forgiven?” she shrieked. “You will not be.”
Remember what Myrrh said. “I’m sorry,” Debbie said, not backing down. “But I didn’t kill you. Stop haunting me and be at peace. Your mother waits for you, Celia. Pass on and go to her.”
The ghost reached out, slashing at Debbie with her ragged nails, ripping four bloody furrows down her arm. Debbie yelped and staggered back, dropping the taper and clutching her bleeding flesh. From outside the church, twin howls sounded, angry and stymied.
The hellhounds. But they can’t get in! Likely Myrrh can’t either!
The ghost picked up the still-burning taper, which began to glow like a branding iron. “You’re not sorry. But you will be. Oh, you will be!”
The church’s twin doors slammed wide open, as Myrrh appeared, moving slowly as if slogging through knee-high mud. The murder of crows wheeled frantically in the sky behind her, cawing madly, diving toward the church, then away. In her hand was a ball of green fire. The ghost turned to her, screeching, claws outstretched.
“Go back to the grave, little girl,” Myrrh commanded, her blue eyes flashing. “Go back willingly, or I’ll end your haunting here. What remains of you will join my murder, until you have atoned for your crimes.”
“Demon!” Celia growled.
“You are becoming one, in your hate,” Myrrh intoned. “As such, you are fair game to me. I owe no allegiance to Heaven or Hell. Go back to the grave!”
Celia hissed, then launched herself at Myrrh.
“Have it your way.” Myrrh threw up both hands, the green fire shooting forward to engulf Celia, who screamed shrilly as she writhed in the eerie flames. The girl split in two, one misty form disappearing, the other solidifying and darkening as it shrunk, becoming a baby crow.

Book Tour Schedule

Follow the book tour from February 22 - March 7, 2019.
Visit each tour stop daily and discover more features, excerpts, reviews, interviews, fun facts and more! To check the latest tour schedule, visit the Year of the Demon Book Page at Book Unleashed.
Year of the Demon Tour Graphic

About Tara Fox Hall

Tara Fox Hall
Tara Fox Hall’s writing credits include nonfiction, erotica, horror, suspense, action-adventure, children’s stories, and contemporary and historical paranormal romance. She is the author of the paranormal fantasy Lash series, the paranormal romantic suspense Unhallowed Love series and the paranormal romantic drama Promise Me series. Tara divides her free time unequally between writing novels and short stories, chainsawing firewood, caring for stray animals, sewing cat and dog beds for donation to animal shelters, and target practice. All of her published children’s stories to date are free reads on www.childrens-stories.net.
Tara Fox Hall's Email: tarafoxhall@gmail.com
Official website: http://www.tarafoxhall.com

Giveaway

WIN $66.60 GIFT CARD AND MORE
Year of the Demon Giveaway Graphic
Prizes up for grabs:
1) 3 sets of paper coasters
2) Diary
3) 10 Bookmarks
4) $66.60 Amazon Gift Card
Contest runs from February 11 - March 7, 2019.

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