Showing posts with label Blitz. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Blitz. Show all posts

Thursday, August 30, 2018

If We Fall (#1 What If Duet) Nina Lane - Blog Tour






Synopsis 


We fell in love. Then our world fell apart.

I wished so hard for Cole Danforth. And one day, he came true. He was my first boyfriend, my first lover, my first and only love. He should also have been my last.

But in a split-second, we were ripped apart, our lives broken, my heart shattered. After ten years, I've returned to my hometown, the place of my greatest joy and darkest pain.

Cole is still here, but the beautiful boy I'd loved is gone. Now he's a ruthless, unforgiving man determined to feed both my resentment and my lust.

Then our torturous past encroaches again, trapping us in a violent storm.

But this time, there is no escape.


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Review
5 Stars
🌟⭐🌟⭐🌟


The prequel to this duet left us guessing as to what happened for everything to change so drastically. This one brings out the heartbreaking event following a happy one. It's intense, raw and souldestroying.

Josie left her hometown with a broken heart and she returns ten years later to try and get some closure by means of her art.

Cole is no longer the "boy" she used to know. He has deviated from his ambitions to become a merciless tycoon.

Although Josie expects to come face to face with Cole on her return, she doesn't expect it to happen so soon. She is shocked by the changes in him. His physical beauty as well as his detached demeanour. She is a still heartbroken, but seeing him reminds her of some of the happy moments, but he doesn't give anything away. Does he even care anymore?

He notices the changes in her, like he used to, ten years ago. His urge to protect her gets the better of him whilst he tries to push her away at the same time. The pull that they once had still burns brightly, but he tries to bury it! He attempts to sabotage her project. The very reason of her return until he discovers what she has been through for the past ten years. Will he relent and rekindle what they once shared or will he stick to the belief of his unworthiness?

I gobbled up this part of the story despite all the angst and misery. Although Cole appears to have changed drastically for the worse, the old Cole is still there. Josie sees through him and when he divulges the reasons for his actions, my heart went out to both of them. The cruelty and hatred of the community towards Cole are vindictive, but he takes it all in his strides. I love Cole and Josie, but not so sure about Nathan. This ends with a cliffhanger that left me wanting to find out how it all ends. Keeping my fingers crossed!

I was kindly issued with an eARC and the views expressed are my personal opinion.






“Sir?” The security guard phones in from downstairs. “There’s a woman here insisting she needs to speak with you.”

“Name?”

“Josephine Mays.”

“Let her in.”

I turn off the intercom and unlock my office door. A few minutes pass before the door flies open. Josie barges in, her hands fisted and an angry light in her eyes.

“You are an asshole,” she snaps.

“I’ve been told.”

“How dare you pull that kind of stunt?”

“It’s the truth.”

“And we both know damned well you brought it up only because I’m involved.” She tosses her backpack and art portfolio onto a chair. She’s trembling with anger. “I don’t care what you think about me, but bringing the people of this town into our personal shit is low, even for you.”

My shoulders tense. “Even for me? What do you know about me?”

“Nothing anymore.” She slams her hands to her hips, her features twisting. “But I used to know everything about you. Do you remember that? Then you walked out on me right when I needed you the most, proving you were never the man I thought you were. Now I find out that you run this company like a dictator, you’re crushing independent businesses and putting people out of work, and you’re publicly trying to stop me from creating a mural that’s intended for both this town and my parents. What the hell happened to you?”

You happened to me.”

The words fly out of my mouth before I can stop them. The pencil I’m holding breaks in two with the force of my grip.

Josie steps back, her eyes widening. Her dark hair is windblown, her cheeks flushed, her chest heaving under her old army jacket. I’d once had the right to comb her hair back from her forehead, slide my palm over her neck before edging my fingers into her V-necked T-shirt...

Anger crushes my chest. I shove away from my desk and stride toward her. Fear flashes in her green eyes, which pisses me off even more. When the fuck was she ever afraid of me?

I grab the lapels of her jacket, yanking her closer. Our lower bodies collide. She gasps, a little catching noise in the back of her throat that used to get me hot in a second.

It still does. My blood starts to boil. She tilts her head back, her eyes flashing. I lower my head to look at her, fighting to ignore her scent—goddamned summer leaves and cherry candy.

“I once would have done anything for you.” The words grate roughly from my throat. “And then I failed you in the worst possible way. I failed you, I failed Teddy, and I failed your parents.”

She stares at me, her eyes widening. “Cole, I—”

“When you left, I hoped with everything I was that you’d have a chance at a normal life.” I pull her closer, anger warring with the undeniable flare of lust. “That you could be happy again if you weren’t constantly surrounded by reminders of everything you lost. Everything I took from you.”

“Goddamn you, Cole Danforth.” Fire flames over her expression. She plants her hands on my chest and shoves herself away. “The only thing you took from me was you.

If We Fly
Part 2 - What If Duet



We fell in love. Then our world fell apart.


I wished so hard for Cole Danforth. And one day, he came true. He was my first crush, my first lover, my first and only love. He should also have been my last.

But in a split-second, we were ripped apart, our lives broken, my heart shattered. After ten years, I've returned to my hometown, the place of my greatest joy and darkest pain.

Cole is still here, but the beautiful boy I'd loved is gone. Now he's a ruthless, unforgiving man determined to feed both my resentment and my lust.

Then our torturous past encroaches again, trapping us in a violent storm.



But this time, there is no escape.





About the Author 




New York Times & USA Today bestselling author Nina Lane writes hot, sexy romances about professors, bad boys, candy makers, and protective alpha males who find themselves consumed with love for one woman alone. Originally from California, Nina holds a PhD in Art History and an MA in Library and Information Studies, which means she loves both research and organization. She also enjoys traveling and thinks St. Petersburg, Russia is a city everyone should visit at least once. Although Nina would go back to college for another degree because she's that much of a bookworm and a perpetual student, she now lives the happy life of a full-time writer.







Wednesday, August 22, 2018

Dirty Rich Obsession (#3 Dirty Rich) Lisa Renee Jones - Release Blitz









A MAN OF CONTROL. A WOMAN WHO'S ABOUT TO TAKE IT.

Reid Maxwell is one of the top corporate attorneys and one of the most eligible bachelors in New York City. He likes his wins big, his women beautiful and in bed, not out, and most importantly the deep burn of his past buried. Until one woman, a most unexpected woman, challenges him in ways that might just destroy the invincible Mr. Maxwell.

Carrie West is captive to Reid Maxwell and a debt between their families she doesn't know exists. It should be so simple for Reid Maxwell. Claim the company that is now his. The problem: he's now obsessed with Carrie, the daughter of the man he's destined to destroy.

Now who's captive to who?


iBooks → 

Amazon US →

Amazon CA → 

Amazon UK →

BN → 






"Why am I here, Reid?”

I drag her onto my lap. “Because I want you here. Because I can’t seem to stop breaking my own fucking rules with you.”

Her hands plant on my shoulders. “And you’re mad at me again? You’re blaming me.”

“Yes. Stop making me break my rules.” I cup her head and kiss her, my tongue pressing past her lips, stroking us both into a needier place, where rules don’t matter.

She moans and sinks into the kiss, and damn it, I love those moans, I’m addicted to those moans. I’m addicted to this woman, and all my good intentions to sate that addiction, fail. I pull my T-shirt over her head and toss it, my gaze raking over her. My hand slides between her shoulder blades, and I mold her close. “This is definitely your fault.”

“Is this where you decide to kick me out again?”

“No,” I say. “This is where we fuck.” I drag her mouth to mine, and kiss her, telling myself that fucking is all this can be, reminding myself of the debt and the secret I legally cannot share. The secret that she’d never stay silent over if she knew.

I tell myself to get lost in the taste of her, defiant and yet submissive at the same time, in that way that defines this woman. I tell myself to just enjoy the moment, and I do. I waste no time getting naked and pulling her down the throbbing length of my cock. I waste no time driving into her. I waste no time getting lost in her touch, her kisses, her moans. And later, much later, when I’ve laid us down and pulled her next to me on the couch, I hold her, listening to her breathing slow and even out. I’m acutely aware that she is a woman caught in the middle of a debt that has to be paid, destined to hate me. It’s why this has to stay just sex. It’s why no matter how deep I go with her, I cannot get too close.





Review
5 Stars
⭐🌟⭐🌟⭐

Dirty Rich Obsession captures the effects of a long standing feud between two families where the offsprings are stuck in the middle. The intense hatred, the lies and deceit covering up the real issues make for a compulsive and compelling read.

Reid is a renowned and successful corporate attorney. He runs the Maxwell family business alongside his brother Gabe and their ruthless father. His background has set him against serious relationships.

Carrie is the daughter of a rival company which now belongs to the Maxwells. She is oblivious to the real reasons behind the hostile take over of her father's company, but she knows who to gun for. Reid Maxwell!

Reid's first encounter with Carrie is rather unusual. After winning him in an auction, she misleads him with revenge in mind and leaves him in the most embarrassing and uncompromising position to say the least. She is fully aware of the repercussions and what happens next comes as a surprise. She is offered the chance to win back the company with conditions attached.

Reid and Carrie are both strong headed and neither likes to lose. The persona that he projects leads to hatred. The thing is neither of them can forget what happened after their first encounter. Their attraction is palpable, but Carrie hates her reaction to him as much as he does her. As they work together, she realises that there is more to him that meets the eyes. Their sexual escapades are intense, but there is no trust from Carrie. Reid does his best to convince her that he isn't the enemy and until he tells her the truth, the chances are slim. His hands are tied and he dreads how she would react when she learns the truth. Can he find a way to enlighten her without jeopardising their future? 

I thoroughly enjoyed this plot where the children are victims of their parents' misgivings. Parents who bear grudges and play dirty. They like to win at all costs. I like both of Reid's persona. The bad boy intrigues and the good side is endearing. Once Carrie commits, she is loyal even when doubts are thrown her way. It's an emotional and sensual read, filled with suspense, intrigues, deceipts and love. It ends on a beautiful note, but there is more to come and I am really curious about what follows. 

I was kindly issued with an eARC and the views expressed are my personal opinion.







DIRTY. RICH. AND UNDENIABLY SEXY. Each book in the Dirty Rich series features a couple that's ready to fight dirty for their love.

There are currently three books available now, and FIVE upcoming books available for pre-order!




LEARN MORE AND ORDER HERE → http://dirtyrich.lisareneejones.com






New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Lisa Renee Jones is the author of the highly acclaimed INSIDE OUT series.

In addition to the success of Lisa's INSIDE OUT series, she has published many successful titles. The TALL, DARK AND DEADLY series and THE SECRET LIFE OF AMY BENSEN series, both spent several months on a combination of the New York Times and USA Today bestselling lists. Lisa is also the author of the bestselling WHITE LIES and LILAH LOVE series.

Prior to publishing Lisa owned multi-state staffing agency that was recognized many times by The Austin Business Journal and also praised by the Dallas Women's Magazine. In 1998 Lisa was listed as the #7 growing women owned business in Entrepreneur Magazine.
















Saturday, August 18, 2018

Seven Minutes 'til Midnight (#3 Rock Gods) Sunniva Dee - Release Blitz


Seven Minutes ‘til Midnight, an all-new Standalone Rock Gods Romance by Sunniva Dee is NOW LIVE!!






A legendary drummer. An outrageous music video... and little me blowing his ever-loving mind in it.


Next thing I knew, my anonymity was a thing of the past.


“Clown Irruption’s smash hit goes from hawt to adult!”— Star Report, April Edition.


The uncensored, all-bared footage was leaked.

And here I was, forced to stare down the same paparazzi lenses the band did.
“Meet Aishe Xodyar, the vixen who made Troy Armstrong reach Heaven on tape!”—Fan Chicks, May Edition.


I cowered behind enemy lines.

Aka joined the band on their worldwide arena tour.

It was another one of my unfortunate miscalculations.

See, Troy Armstrong was formidable.
We were polar opposites, but he still sucked me in like a magnet.


A fragile truce set in between us. Then, a mutual crush.

I had an obsessive nature, but my fixation on him was downright wholesome compared to their new merch girl’s.


“Meet Hailey Pawter, secret stalker, fangirl, and dangerously gifted lookalike.”—Tabloid Minute, June Edition.


As Hailey’s web tightened around us, love in the limelight turned from complicated to impossible.



Grab Your Copy Today for .99 Cents!



Free in Kindle Unlimited




Amazon Universal mybook.to/SevenMinutesSD


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Review
5 Stars
⭐🌟⭐🌟⭐

Seven Minutes 'til Midnight is a terrific addition to the Rock Gods series.

Troy and Aishe share a past which was amiable, until it wasn't. Aishe made an appearance for Clown Eruptions forthcoming video. It was meant to be a one off and she would go back to her life now that she has Troy out of her system! She didn't expect for this video to be leaked and all of a sudden, she is back in the band's life. 

Troy is a droolworthy respectable drummer whose principles are admirable. As much as he wants Aishe, he respects her boundaries. The chemistry between them can hardly be ignored. Their biggest problem is Hailey who has set her heart on claiming Troy. Will she succeed or will Troy and Aishe follow their hearts to their happiness? 

The emotions in this novel are palpable. Troy and Aishe fight hard to overcome what previously tore them apart and the reward is more than satisfying. Yet again, this author produces a soulful novel which captivates the heart. 

I was kindly issued with an eARC and the views expressed are my personal opinion. I have also purchased my own copy.

About Sunniva Dee



So you know I’m a writer. I write literary romances that are full of substance and romance. I tend to write in my head all the time, like when I sleep, breath, pet cats, am forced to make dinner, and even while doing my job as an adviser for students at an art college in the South—

I mean…I—I—I write at other times too.

I love international flights when they’re delayed and my Mac and I can dive into a bar. There’s nothing better than an hour or two lost (too quickly) in pages I didn’t know were waiting for me.

I hate schedules, real life, cross-country skiing, and moodiness not inside of me. Not that I enjoy it in me. I’m just used to it, and it feeds scenes in my books, see?

I giggle at everything. I don’t judge easily. People say I’m kind/genuine/shy/stubborn/annoying/aloof/boring, but above it all, I am passionate. A Dragon of the Chinese zodiac and an Aquarius with all-the-air and the brightest color palette. Incidentally, that last fact could be why no one wants to buy the house I’ve got for sale.

But mostly, I love to write.



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Mixed up Love by Natasha Madison - Release Blitz









Hunter

When my business partner asked me to do him a favor, I had no idea he was sending me on a blind date his mother arranged for him. I walked in the bar, saw the woman drinking her third martini, and knew I was in for an eventful night.

After the unexpected second date, she didn't know my real name or who I really was. By that time, the lie was too far gone, and I wanted her too much to admit the truth.

Laney

It's not every day you find out your ex-boyfriend is engaged.

I shouldn't have agreed to the blind date. My mother insisted, and I wasn’t in any position to turn down a night out.

I will admit, I definitely shouldn't have ordered that fourth martini before said blind date even arrived.

The man turned out to be swoon worthy, handsome, condescending—a perfect distraction. Then I found out he was a liar.

I've never been in over my head to this degree.

Then again, I've never been in love.


Barnes & Noble | iBooks






I pull up to the front door, and the valet meets me at my door once I stop. “Good evening, sir,” he says once I open my door.

“Yeah, I won’t be here long,” I tell him as I get out, not bothering to take off my sunglasses when I hand him the keys.

“No worries, sir. It will be here when you are ready,” he says, handing me the ticket for later. I put it in the inside pocket of my suit jacket. I walk inside to the hostess table, where a woman who looks like she is eighteen stands smiling.

“How may I help you?” she asks sweetly. I stop and look around to see if I might recognize the woman I’m here to meet, even though I’ve never met her. I spot a couple of women at the bar, but I instinctively know they aren’t her. I also check for exits. It’s not my fault; it’s just instilled in me.

Looking to the left, I don’t see anyone sitting alone, but then I look to the right, and I see her. I don’t know why I know it’s her, but I just do. With curly long blond hair, she downs a martini, then picks up another one and brings it to her mouth. I spot a waiter walking with two more martinis on his tray, and I’m not surprised when I see him approaching her table. “Great,” I say under my breath. “I found her,” I tell the hostess and start walking toward the table. She spots me and watches my every move. Luckily, the glasses I’m wearing stop her from seeing my eyes.

The closer I get to her, the more my pulse speeds up. What the fuck? This is weird. I look around maybe to see if something else is piquing my interest or maybe I spotted something to elevate my pulse, but no, it’s her. The fact that a gorgeous woman is sitting by herself and drinking like a fish is enough to get any man’s adrenaline pumping. Isn’t it?

“Are you Laney?” I ask, taking off my glasses, and my gray eyes finally meet her blue ones. She opens her mouth, expecting, I think, something to come out, but nothing does. I continue looking around to see if anyone is watching her, and it’s no surprise that I spot two guys at the bar sizing her up.

“Here are two more.” The waiter smiles at her, putting two more glasses down on the table and taking the two now empty ones away. She laughs nervously, and I want to reach out and trip him when he walks away.

“It isn’t what it looks like.” Her soft voice breaks me out of my plan, and I turn back to her as she smiles at me, causing my heartbeat to skyrocket. The collar of my shirt suddenly feels tight, but it’s not even buttoned.

“Really? I find it hard to believe,” I finally say. Looking around again, I spot the same two guys in suits sitting at the bar watching her. This time, one of them spots me and looks back down at his drink. “It looks like you’re sitting here waiting for something bad to happen.” I pull out the chair and sit in front of her.

“Um.” She still doesn’t say anything.




Review
3 Stars
⭐🌟⭐


A blind date between two reluctant individuals who think that they would turn up, have a drink and make their escapes. As it happens fate has different ideas!

Hunter is ex SEAL and runs a security company with a group of friends. He has flings, but doesn't date.

Laney has her dream job and hasn't dated since she found out that her then boyfriend was a cheat and a liar.

Hunter's friend, Anthony asks him to go on a blind date arranged by his mother. Hunter reluctantly agrees as his friend has other plans. Laney has just discovered that her ex is engaged and agrees to the blind date. Just the distraction that she needs. For once, she lets her hair down and indulges in one too many "refreshments"! Her date arrives when she is on her third and it's no way to make an impression. Does she really care? Most likely not.

Hunter starts to lecture her on her behaviour and soon finds out that she is no push over. This intrigues him, and he takes her to his favourite restaurant. Although, their first impressions were far from desirable, they enjoy the so called date. The first leads to a second and they quite like each other's company. Neither of them has ever felt so comfortable in the company of a date. They are both smitten, but there is a problem. Hunter is still acting under false pretenses! What happens when Laney uncovers his true identity and the lie?

This novel is fairly easy to read and although it's not insta love, the development of the romance is rather fast. Hunter is overbearing when it comes to safety, but the reasons behind his fears sort of justify his behaviour. Laney is dependable, but she makes rash decisions. They work pretty well as a couple. It's a light read with a little humour.

I was kindly issued with an eARC and the views expressed are my personal opinion.



About the Author 





When her nose isn't buried in a book, or her fingers flying across a keyboard writing, she's in the kitchen creating gourmet meals. You can find her, in four inch heels no less, in the car chauffeuring kids, or possibly with her husband scheduling his business trips. It's a good thing her characters do what she says, because even her Labrador doesn't listen to her...













Saturday, July 21, 2018

The Gathering (#1 The Uprising) Bernadette Giacomazzo - Book Blitz







The Gathering
Bernadette Giacomazzo
(The Uprising, #1)
Publication date: March 31st 2018
Genres: Adult, Dystopian

The Uprising Series tells the story of three freedom fighters and their friends in high — and low — places that come together to overthrow a vainglorious Emperor and his militaristic Cabal to restore the city, and the way of life, they once knew and loved.

In The Gathering, Jamie Ryan has defected from the Cabal and has joined his former brothers-in-arms — Basile Perrinault and Kanoa Shinomura — to form a collective known as The Uprising. When an explosion leads to him crossing paths with Evanora Cunningham — a product of Jamie’s past — he discovers that The Uprising is bigger, and more important, than he thought.

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EXCERPT

Jamie


I saw Emperor – looking like a hot air balloon, sounding as ridiculous as ever – blathering on about his personal Reichstag fire, and laying the blame of the explosion squarely at the feet of myself and my brothers-in-arms.


“…and it’s these traitors of the state – the threat to the security of my Empire of the United States of America – the defectors of the Cabal who go by Jamie Ryanand Basile Perrinault and, my greatest betrayal, Supreme Allied Commander Kanoa Shinomura…” he hollered into the microphone, which seemed to reverberate throughout the city.


At the sound of Kanoa’s name, the Cabal members below the balcony slammed the butts of their guns on the floor in rhythm. I knew that rhythm all too well – it was meant to be a war cry for those of us in the rank-and-file of the Cabal – but, to the untrained ear, it sounded like a machine gun going off…which was exactly the point.


But I couldn’t help but sneer at the accusation that the blast that nearly killed Evanora and Tommy was somehow our fault. He’d spent decades trying to catch us and failing miserably, yet in the same breath, believed we were inept enough to set off a blast that took no lives and could be cleaned up during a balmy New York evening. And he managed to sell this ridiculous belief to the crowd, no less.


“Let’s make something clear, asshole,” I muttered, “if it had been me and the boys that lit your shit up, you wouldn’t be standing here today.”


Despite the absurdity of the accusation – and despite the obvious absurdity of the accusation – the victims of psi just grunted along, agreeing with everything and anything that came out of Emperor’s mouth, in part because they didn’t know any better (they were psi victims, after all), and in part because any disagreement with what Emperor had to say was met with a fierce, painful punishment.


“His Word, Before All and Above All,” I muttered. “With liberty and justice for no one, so kiss my peasant Old New York ass and take a breath mint afterward, unless you like that funky aftertaste…”


My voice trailed off as my eyes focused on a strange woman on the balcony.


At first, I couldn’t discern who she was – she looked like someone I’d seen before, yet someone I’d never seen before.


Her hair was a garish white-blonde, stringy and lifeless, and pinned tightly behind her head with a set of black ceramic chopsticks. Her makeup was almost cartoonish – cat-like black eyeliner and matte black lipstick sat atop a ghostly white foundation. Even her outfit was a hideously hilarious cultural appropriation – a black silk kimono paired with a set of black stiletto heels. I’d seen Old New York 42nd Street prostitutes, with terrible heroin problems, sell the “Asian coquette” look better than what I’d seen before me now.


“Who the actual…” I began, hesitantly, unable to process who I was seeing before me.


And then it hit me, all at once, who she was.


For the first time in a long time, I was literally speechless.


When I could finally find my voice again, it barely came out in a whisper. “Rosie,” I squeaked.


I walked into the Ludlow Street apartment I shared with Angelique and was instantly greeted with the smell of a meat dish that, I would later learn, was calledcarne asada.


“Angelique!” I called out over the loud sizzling of steak as I kicked off my black Frye boots and set my matching acoustic guitar down. “Where are you, my love?”


“In here!” she called, out of sight, from the kitchen, where more clanging and banging sounds echoed over her voice.


I began walking through the apartment, shedding layers as I went along until I reached the kitchen wearing nothing but my black leather pants and a mischievous smile. I was hoping to have a little appetizer of crΓ¨me d’Angelique before dinner, but when I reached the kitchen, I realized – much to my chagrin – that we weren’t alone.


Angelique, her hair tied back into a messy ponytail, was wearing a tight, white, see-through shorts jumper and a matching white apron. She was standing next to an unfamiliar-looking woman with a matching messy ponytail, but whose thick chocolate brown hair stood in sharp contrast to Angelique’s thin flaxen locks. The rest of her, too, was in stark contrast to Angelique, but not in a bad way – she was olive-skinned, in contrast to Angelique’s pale white skin; she was curvy, in contrast to Angelique’s ectomorphic figure; she was fiery, in contrast to Angelique’s ethereal nature.


They were standing side by side, working on something that smelled simply delicious. Angelique was mixing flour, sugar, and garlic powder, and her friend was adding melted butter and salted water to the resultant powder, then kneading it until it formed a dough.


“Am I interrupting something?” I asked as I walked behind Angelique, wrapped my arms around her waist, and kissed her neck, breathing in her scent of lilacs as I did so.


She smiled, then took her index finger and bopped the tip of my nose with the flour mixture. “Hey handsome,” she said, beatifically. “We’re making something special for you for dinner. We’ve got carne asada in the pan over there – we’ve got some arroz con gandules in the rice cooker – and we’re making…wait, girl, what’s this called?”


Arepas,” her friend said, smiling as she continued to knead the dough between her hands, her silver thumb ring glistening in the light of the dusk as she did so.


“Right, arepas,” Angelique repeated. “Ramira here is teaching me all her magic ways – she says this is the exact dinner I need to make if I want my man to marry me.” She giggled, then elbowed Ramira, who giggled along with Angelique.


I couldn’t help but giggle, as well, as I unentwined myself from Angelique and walked over to Ramira to properly introduce myself. “I’m going to be stuffed fordays with all this delicious food, so it’s only right that we become friends,” I began, extending my hand. “Hi there. I’m James Randall Ryan IV, I somehow lucked out enough to convince this lovely lady Angelique to be my girlfriend, and it’s a pleasure to meet you. You can call me Jamie.”


Ramira smiled, then shook my hand with two of her fingers, taking care not to smear the wet dough across my palm. “Well, my name is Ramira Diaz, Angelique is my best friend, and it’s a pleasure to meet you too. You can call me Rosie, though. Everyone else does.”


I sat under a wilting star magnolia tree and stared, intently, through the open window of a room that had to be Rosie’s dressing room. She peeled her black silk kimono off and turned her back to the frameless window, exposing her prominent ribs and shoulder blades as she did so. The sight of her suddenly-bare, emaciated frame shocked me, especially given how pronounced her curves were in our younger years, and tears welled up in my eyes yet again.


In the decades since Angelique and my son had died, I could count the number of times I’d cried on one hand. In the past 72 hours, though – as I realized that my best friend’s kid, and my best friend’s girlfriend, were alive and well, and that the Uprising was bigger than I’d ever imagined – the tears came quickly and flowed easily, and I couldn’t decide if this was a sign of strength or weakness on my part.


Rosie slipped a shimmering white camisole over her emaciated frame, which she then tucked into a pair of white linen slacks. I couldn’t get over how thin she’d gotten, then wondered if this was by her own design, or if she was under orders from that evil husband of hers. No way would Jordan be cool with this, I thought to myself. On his fucking grave would this go on. On his fucking grave. And wouldn’t you know it – here we are, on his fucking grave.


I saw Rosie leave the room and begin to head down a flight of stairs, and I took that as an opportunity to get her alone, away from the rabid Cabal and out of sight of the vainglorious Emperor. She’d taken a few steps away from her building, and into Emperor’s Park, before passing by the wilting star magnolia tree that I was hiding behind. It was only when I saw the back of her slicked back, perfect ponytail – what a difference from the one she was wearing when we first met, I thought – that I saw the opportunity to get her alone and began walking behind her. 

“You’ve come a long way from making arepas on Ludlow Street,” I said, tapping her on the shoulder when I finally caught up with her.


She spun around, her face scrunched up in fear, and for a split second, I thought she was going to hit me. But just as quickly, she relaxed as her eyes registered who owned the disembodied voice. “Jamie,” she whispered tearfully. “You’re here. You’re alive. I didn’t realize…”


“How the hell did you not?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows and side-eyeing her. “Your damned husband has been hunting me for decades.”


“I knew that,” she said, taking ragged breaths. “But just the fact that he was never able to take you alive led me to believe that you were…you know…” Her voice trailed off.


I wasn’t convinced, and I continued to stare at her intently as I scratched my left cheek, which was now beginning to show the first signs of salt-and-pepper beard stubble. “First of all, why the hell are you talking like you’re Queen Elizabeth? Second, let me just state it for the record: you give your asshole husbandway too much credit if you think he can take me down.”


Rosie bit her lower lip, then shifted her eyes down. I put my hand under her chin and tipped her face up, forcing her eyes to meet mine as I tried, desperately, to search for a sign of the Rosie I once knew. “Rosie,” I whispered intently. “It’s me. You don’t have to hide from me.”


Her face was a blank slate. “My name is Rose. Rose Cunningham,” she said with flat affect.


“Oh, bullshit,” I whispered, even more intently. “Whatever happened to ‘call me Rosie, everyone else does’? What happened to that woman who was makingarepas in the kitchen with my Angelique?”


That got her attention, and her deep brown eyes flashed with fire as she balled up her fists and began swinging at me. “You shit! You bastard! You did it! You almost killed my baby!”


I ducked, bobbed and weaved, avoiding each blow as I carefully tried to talk her down from the ledge. “Rosie! What the hell are you talking about? I didn’t do that shit! I swear!”


She continued to swing at me. “Yes! Yes, you did!” she squealed tearfully, repeating the same “yes, yes” with each swing, her voice getting louder each time.


“Do you want to knock it off before the fuckin’ Cabal finds us, Rosie? The fuck is wrong with you? Jesus Christ!” I was shouting despite myself and began scanning the landscape frantically for Cabal soldiers that would have undoubtedly heard us, all while bobbing and weaving like a prizefighter to avoid getting punched in the face.


She swung even harder and squealed even louder. “You tried to kill my baby! Just like you killed yours!”


That line finally got me to react, and I had to steady my breathing to stop from clocking her in the mouth. Even in the throes of the worst of my Faustian behavior, I never hit a woman, and neither did any of my bandmates – the thought of violence against a woman, let alone a woman we’d loved, didn’t even cross our drug-addled minds.


Instead, I grabbed her wrists and forced them down to her sides, holding them in place at hip level as she struggled, trying to hit me, until she finally began whimpering in defeat.


“Now you listen to me, Ramira Diaz, and you listen well,” I began, angrily. “You may have forgotten everything you were and are, but I sure as fuck haven’t forgotten a goddamn thing, and let me rest assure you, I never fuckin’ will.”


Her lower lip was trembling, her eyes were watering, and it became evident that she was on the verge of tears. Still, I continued. “So, let me get a few things out of the way now, so we’re not confused. Number one: that blast? It wasn’t me. It wasn’t anyone tied to me. It wasn’t anyone whose name I can even spell. Because let me assure you, again, that if it were me, or anyone tied to me, we’d have burned down the entire fuckin’ city, even if it meant killing ourselves in the process, and wouldn’t have left a survivor anywhere on this God-forsaken island.


“Number two: you know goddamn well I didn’t kill Angelique or our baby. Now I wear their death on my heart every. Fucking. Day. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in twenty fucking years, from the day they were killed, because I can’t get their murders out of my mind. There are times I wish I was dead, just so that I don’t have to live with the guilt of their murders, but no, here I am, and ain’t that a fuckin’ bitch from Hell. I’d give all the money in the world to have my Angelique back. I’d trade my life for Jordan’s any day of the week. And my son – my only legacy – never had a chance at life, and you think that’s all fair?


“Number three – and this is the most important part, Rosie, goddamnit, you’d better fuckin’ listen to this if you listen to nothing else: remember that promise I made to you in the hospital room? All those years ago? Because I fuckin’ do. And that’s why when Evanora and Tommy came down the Bowery after the blast, and I realized who she was, I made sure she was safe and clean and warm…”


Rosie looked shocked. “Wait. She came to you?”


I searched her face, trying to see if I could register where her loyalties lie before I continued to answer the question. For some reason, however, I couldn’t make it out. I even tried to read Rosie’s mind using a gentle form of psi, but I still couldn’t read her mind at all. It was like trying to probe a brick wall. So, to protect Evanora – and the rest of us – I chose to cover my tracks. “Yeah,” I said airily, “she mentioned something about listening to Uprising Radio.”


The name of Uprising Radio registered some type of recognition with Rosie, and her eyes lit up slightly. “My baby has heard Uprising Radio?”


“I don’t know for sure,” I continued, still adopting an airy affect, “but I’m pretty sure that’s what she said.” Using my Cabal training, I put a mental wall between my thoughts and Rosie, mostly because I didn’t know how much training she’d had in the psi arts, and I wasn’t sure if she, too, could read my mind. And if, God forbid, her loyalties lied with that pathetic excuse of her husband, I could at least protect, if not myself, then the whole Uprising movement.


I made sure the wall was firmly in place before I continued. “I think I’ve heard Uprising Radio a few times, but I don’t know much about it, who does it, or anything of the sort.”


“Yeah,” Rosie said, hesitantly, behind a mental brick wall of her own, “I have no idea, either.”


We were calmer, now – our breath was steady, our thoughts were collected, and Rosie’s fists were limp. I finally felt confident that she wasn’t going to try to hit me again, so I loosened my grip on her wrists.


But I suddenly found myself unable to let her go, so I slid my hands from her wrists to her hands and grabbed her fingers lightly. I was overcome with emotion.


“What is it, Jamie?” Her voice was cracking.


I exhaled loudly, then drew in a ragged breath. “Do you think about him, Rosie? Do you think about Jordan at all?”


She closed her eyes and allowed the tears to fall as she exhaled shakily. “Every day of my life,” she said softly. “There’s not a day that goes by that Jordan doesn’t cross my mind. Every time I look at Evanora – every time I hear her laugh – he comes to my mind. Sometimes, she gives me this look – you remember, Jamie? You remember when Jordan would hear something that was just too stupid for words, and he would get this look on his face, like, ‘were you dropped on your head as a child?’” – and to this, I gave a half-smile and a nod – “and now, she gets that look. And that one eyebrow” – she took her finger and drew on her left eyebrow – “it would just go up like…like…”


She dropped her hand as her voice trailed off, her eyes filling with tears.


I nodded my head, closed my eyes, and sighed. “Fuckin’ guy,” I said, opening my eyes and looking at Rosie. “So. You didn’t see me, right?”


Rosie smiled and winked at me. “Ivan Sapphire? Please. Get over yourself, rock star.” She squeezed my hands one last time for good measure. “I’m going to leave now. I’m not going to look back because I don’t want to see where you’re going. This way, if someone with bad intentions against you asks me if I know where you are, I can answer honestly when I say I don’t know. But just because I don’t look back, doesn’t mean I want to see you go. I need you to understand that, Jamie Ryan. I don’t need you to over-analyze things that don’t need over-analyzing. I need you to let me go, Jamie Ryan, and I need you to know that I love you, and I thank you, from the bottom of my heart.”


She finally let go of my hands, gave me a slight nod, then turned and walked back to her home. I watched her, silently, keeping the promise I made so long ago to Jordan Barker and didn’t leave what was once known as Central Park until I saw, for sure, that she was safe inside.


Author Bio



With an impressive list of credentials earned over the course of two decades, Bernadette R. Giacomazzo is a multi-hyphenate in the truest sense of the word: an editor, writer, photographer, publicist, and digital marketing specialist who has demonstrated an uncanny ability to thrive in each industry with equal aplomb. Her work has been featured in Teen Vogue, People, Us Weekly, The Los Angeles Times, The New York Post, and many, many more. She served as the news editor of Go! NYC Magazine for nearly a decade, the executive editor of LatinTRENDS Magazine for five years, the eye candy editor of XXL Magazine for two years, and the editor-at-large at iOne/Zona de Sabor for two years. As a publicist, she has worked with the likes of Curtis “50 Cent” Jackson and his G-Unit record label, rapper Kool G. Rap, and various photographers, artists, and models. As a digital marketing specialist, Bernadette is Google Adwords certified, has an advanced knowledge of SEO, PPC, link-building, and other digital marketing techniques, and has worked for a variety of clients in the legal, medical, and real estate industries.

Based in New York City, Bernadette is the co-author of Swimming with Sharks: A Real World, How-To Guide to Success (and Failure) in the Business of Music (for the 21st Century), and the author of the forthcoming dystopian fiction series, The Uprising. She also contributed a story to the upcoming Beyonce Knowles tribute anthology, The King Bey Bible, which will be available in bookstores nationwide in the summer of 2018.





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Friday, July 20, 2018

What Lies in Shadows by Siena Noble - Book Blitz








What Lies in Shadows
Siena Noble
Publication date: July 20th 2018
Genres: Adult, Mystery, Romance, Suspense

Ten years ago, former San Francisco police detective Daniel Yun lost everything when he lost his beloved wife and partner, Christine, to the very serial killer they were hunting. Now a private investigator, Dan has done his best to move on with his life, burying himself in his work and being a devoted uncle to his nieces and nephews. His weekends are occupied with a succession of boring blind dates and a long string of willing submissives, but the one woman who has managed to creep into his heart is the one woman he can’t allow himself to have: Heather, Christine’s best friend.

Since the brutal murder of her best friend, homicide detective Heather D’Angelo has dedicated her life to keeping the city safe from scum like Christine’s killer. Between her stressful job and the demands of being a divorced single mom, Heather has little time for romance, preferring the familiar company of Dan… and the occasional Saturday night at the local BDSM club. But no Dom can compare to the man whose touch first awakened her hidden desires years before: none other than Dan himself…

For nearly a decade, the man believed to be the San Francisco Slasher has been behind bars, until a vicious killing all too similar to Christine’s forces the police to reopen the case, and Dan to confront all the fury and pain he thought he’d buried long ago. When the trail of the Slasher and Dan’s latest case converge and lead straight to the city’s BDSM community, he and Heather find themselves working intimately together, bringing their long-suppressed passion to the surface. But as they fight feelings stronger than friendship, the body count continues to climb, and the Slasher isn’t the only threat they face. Only together can Dan and Heather overcome the demons that have haunted them for so long, especially since the killer may be far closer to them than they ever imagined…






Author Bio

A proud Pittsburgh, PA area native, Siena Noble has explored and inhabited all kinds of fictional worlds through her writing since age ten. Although she’s always been a sucker for a good love story and possesses an incredibly dirty mind, she never imagined that her publishing debut would be erotic romance. What started as a silly short story idea quickly became something much bigger, a demanding Master of a manuscript whose every whim Siena submitted to.

When she’s not busy reading, writing, binge-watching Game of Thrones, or doing a million other important things, Siena enjoys traveling, archery, and getting lost in the woods (also known as “hiking”). She and her better half/writing buddy/sometimes Sir/sex muse live together in Pittsburgh. Their dream is to relocate to the middle of nowhere and build a castle capable of withstanding the impending zombie apocalypse.






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