BATTLEFIELD LOVE Series Blog Tour: Excerpt and Giveaway


Title: BATTLEFIELD LOVE (Operation Cupid #1)

Author: Skyler Andra & Mila Young

Pub. Date: November 26, 2018

Publisher: Skylar Andra & Mila Young

Formats: eBook

Pages: 266

Find it: GoodreadsAmazon

READ FOR FREE ON KINDLE UNLIMITED!

When a sassy and disillusioned phone operator gets a hold of the power of Cupid, watch out!

A mysterious caller…

Locke Casey is nothing special. Sure, her job as a phone operator job is a little unusual, but it pays the bills, and as a broke, twenty something college student, she doesn’t have much room to be picky. She is used to odd calls from strange men thanks to her job, but when one begins quizzing her about love, she finds her life turned upside down.

An unbelievable turn of events…

Turns out the creepy caller might actually be Cupid. For some unknown reason, the god of love passed on his powers to Locke, which makes no sense considering she’s never been in love and considers the whole concept overrated. Talk about an unlikely candidate!

A mission to save the gods…

Having Cupid’s powers alone might be more than she can handle, but with her godly benefactor doing a disappearing act, all the gods are in a flurry, and it’s up to Locke to save Olympus. All in a day’s work, right?

Battlefield Love is the first in a series, a slow burn reverse harem romance with sexy, godly avatars and steamy scenes.

Grab books 2 & 3 now! READ FOR FREE ON KINDLE UNLIMITED!

Quicksilver Love: A Reverse Harem Mythological Romance (Operation Cupid Book 2)- Amazon

Awakened Love: A reverse harem romance (Operation Cupid Book 3)- Amazon

Excerpt:

About Skylar:

Never say never. That’s Skyler’s attitude, and she fills her heroines and heroes with that same philosophy. Skyler is an Aussie who loves traveling and her goal is to one day visit every country in the world. When she’s not writing, she’s snuggling with a good book and her furbabies. At heart she’s a gaming nerd, Pilates and martial arts enthusiast.

Facebook | Amazon Author Page | BookBub | Goodreads

About Mila:

Bestselling Author, Mila Young tackles everything with the zeal and bravado of the fairytale heroes she grew up reading about. She slays monsters, real and imaginary, like there’s no tomorrow.

 By day she rocks a keyboard as a marketing extraordinaire. At night she battles with her might pen-sword, creating fairytale retellings, and sexy ever after tales. In her spare time, she loves pretending she’s a mighty warrior, walks on the beach with her dogs, cuddling up with her cats, and devouring every fantasy tale she can get her pinkies on.

Sign up for Mila’s Newsletter!

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Instagram | Facebook Group | Amazon Author Page | BookBub | Goodreads

Giveaway Details:

1 lucky winner will receive a $10 Amazon GC, International.

3 lucky winners will win BATTLEFIELD LOVE Swag Packs, International.

Giveaway Link:

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/e2389ba2909/?

Tour Schedule:

Week One:

3/25/2019- Books a Plenty Book Reviews– Review

3/25/2019- Lone Tree Reviews– Excerpt

3/26/2019- Daily Waffle– Spotlight

3/26/2019- BookHounds– Excerpt

3/27/2019- Adventures Thru Wonderland– Review

3/27/2019- Smada’s Book Smack– Spotlight

3/28/2019- Book Briefs– Review

3/28/2019- Romantic Reviews– Excerpt

3/29/2019- Reese’s Reviews– Review

3/29/2019- Ramblings of a Book Nerd– Review

Week Two:

4/1/2019- Julia Swoons– Review

4/1/2019- A Gingerly Review– Excerpt

4/2/2019- Kelly P’s Blog– Excerpt

4/2/2019- Jaime’s World– Excerpt

4/3/2019- Two Chicks on Books– Excerpt

4/3/2019- The Reading Corner for All– Review

4/4/2019- Owl Always Be Reading– Excerpt

4/4/2019- Love in a time of Feminism– Excerpt

4/5/2019- AURELIA LEO– Review

4/5/2019- Hauntedbybooks– Review

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Wicked Saints by Emily A. Duncan // Blog Tour

“Prepare for a snow-frosted, blood-drenched fairy tale where the monsters steal your heart and love ends up being the nightmare.” – Roshani Chokshi, New York Times bestselling author of The Star-Touched Queen

A girl who can speak to gods must save her people without destroying herself.

A prince in danger must decide who to trust.

A boy with a monstrous secret waits in the wings. 

Together, they must assassinate the king and stop the war.

In a centuries-long war where beauty and brutality meet, their three paths entwine in a shadowy world of spilled blood and mysterious saints, where a forbidden romance threatens to tip the scales between dark and light. Wicked Saints is the thrilling start to Emily A. Duncan’s devastatingly Gothic Something Dark and Holy trilogy.

“This book destroyed me and I adored it.”- Stephanie Garber, New York Times bestselling author of Caraval

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EXCERPT:

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AUTHOR BIO:

EMILY A. DUNCAN works as a youth services librarian. She received a Master’s degree in library science from Kent State University, which mostly taught her how to find obscure Slavic folklore texts through interlibrary loan systems. When not reading or writing, she enjoys playing copious amounts of video games and dungeons and dragons. Wicked Saints is her first book. She lives in Ohio.

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REVIEWS:

“Prepare for a snow frosted, blood drenched fairy tale where the monsters steal your heart and love ends up being the nightmare. Utterly absorbing.” – Roshani Chokshi, New York Times bestselling author of The Star-Touched Queen 

“Full of blood and monsters and magic—this book destroyed me and I adored it. Emily is a wicked storyteller, she’s not afraid to hurt her characters or her readers. If you’ve ever fallen in love with a villain you will fall hard for this book.” – Stephanie Garber, New York Times bestselling author of Caraval

“This is the novel of dark theology and eldritch blood-magic that I’ve been waiting for all my life. It’s got a world at once brutal and beautiful, filled with characters who are wounded, lovable, and ferocious enough to break your heart. A shattering, utterly satisfying read.” – Rosamund Hodge, author of Cruel Beauty and Bright Smoke, Cold Fire 

Wicked Saints is a lush, brutal, compelling fantasy that is dark, deep, and bloody—absolutely riveting! With a boy who is both man and monster, mysterious saints with uncertain motives, and a girl filled with holy magic who is just beginning to understand the full reaches of her power, this gothic jewel of a story will sink its visceral iron claws into you, never letting go until you’ve turned the last page. And truthfully, not even then -the explosive ending will haunt you for days! ” – Robin LaFevers, New York Times bestselling author of the His Fair Assassin trilogy 

“Dark, bloody, and monstrously romantic. This is the villain love interest that we’ve all been waiting for.” – Margaret Rogerson, New York Times bestselling author of An Enchantment of Ravens 
“Seductively dark and enchanting, Wicked Saints is a trance you won’t want to wake from. Duncan has skillfully erected a world like no other, complete with provocative magic, sinister creatures, and a plot that keeps you guessing. This spellbinding YA fantasy will bewitch readers to the very last page.” – Adrienne Young, New York Times bestselling author of Sky in the Deep 

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BUY LINK:

https://static.macmillan.com/static/smp/wicked-saints/

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SOCIAL LINKS:

Website: https://eaduncan.com/
Twitter: @glitzandshadows
Instagram: @glitzandshadows
Tumblr: http://glitzandshadows.tumblr.com/

FAE’S CAPTIVE by Lily Archer Release Day Blitz: Excerpt and Giveaway!



I am so excited that FAE’S CAPTIVE by Lily Archer is available now and that I get to share the news!

If you haven’t yet heard about this wonderful book by Author Lily Archer, be sure to check out all the details below.

This blitz also includes a giveaway for a $10 Amazon GC courtesy of Lily and Rockstar Book Tours. So if you’d like a chance to win, enter in the Rafflecopter at the bottom of this post.

Title: FAE’S CAPTIVE
Author: Lily Archer
Pub. Date: February 19, 2019
Publisher: Lily Archer
Formats: Paperback, eBook
Pages: 215
Find it: Goodreads, Amazon

My college roommate was the worst. Cecile would steal my food, bring guys over at all hours, and party instead of studying. But those quirks paled in comparison to what she did next. She drugged me, and I woke up imprisoned in an alternate universe full of terrifying creatures. Now, the biggest and scariest creature of all—a fae king—believes I’m his mate. He’s freed me from the dungeon, but keeps me close. So close, in fact, that I’m beginning to like his wintery gaze and ice-chiseled body. But secrets and villains lurk throughout this new world, and I don’t know if I’ll survive long enough to figure out how to get back home.





Book 2 is also available! Grab it now!

Title: ROAD TO WINTER (FAE’S CAPTIVE #2)
Author: Lily Archer
Pub. Date: February 19, 2019
Publisher: Lily Archer
Formats: Paperback, eBook
Pages: 215
Find it: Goodreads, Amazon

The fae king is growing on me. Every touch, look, and night spent in his arms is slowly melting my resistance. When his feral side takes over, something inside me wants to let go and give him everything. With each passing day, the pull is getting harder to deny. But the road to the winter realm is full of danger, and I need to concentrate on finding my way home, not on the promises of pleasure Leander whispers in my ear at night. Even so, how long can I resist the intoxicating kiss of winter?

Author’s Note: This is book 2 of the Fae’s Captive Series. Be sure to read book 1 first or risk being lost in the woods with a growly fae king.




Exclusive Excerpt!

A smile quirks up one side of his lips, and the goosebumps spread down my back. He’s handsome in a brutish, alien sort of way. But definitely more scary than anything else. Those dark eyes hide traps and barbs, I’m certain of it.

He edges closer and rests the tray next to me.

My stomach growls again, and I can’t take my eyes off the food. But should I eat it?

With a nudge, he pushes the tray even closer. I can smell the sweetness of the fruit and the doughy bread. Food is food, right? But what if it’s poisoned?

He says something, one word. Maybe it’s ‘eat’, since he gestures toward the tray with one of his bear paws.

My stomach makes the decision for me as it complains loudly and a hunger pang shoots through me. I reach for the bread and take a small piece, then put it in my mouth, testing it. Sweeter than the breads I’m used to, it melts on my tongue.

He nods, his dark eyes glinting, and he says the word again. It sounds like “brantath” to me. I form the word as best I can and repeat it back to him. His face lightens, and he tears another piece of bread from the round loaf and gives it to me.

I take it, swallowing it just as fast as the first. “So brantath means eat.” My stomach seems to rumble even more. “Or maybe it means bread?”

When he sits on the bed, I yank the fur up and pull my knees to my chest. The entire mattress shifts under his weight as he leans over and butters a bigger piece of bread and offers it to me.

“Brantath.” He leans closer. The scent from the fur and the shirt I’m wearing is the same one that wafts from him. It’s the promise of a cold winter’s night spent next to a roaring fire.

I take the bread, my fingers gently brushing against his. A low growl in his throat has me pulling back. It stops, but he gives me a predatory look, one that frightens me and sends heat blasting through me at the same time. Something’s wrong with me, but I’m too happy about the food to care.

I devour the bread, the butter creamy and delicious. He rises, the bed groaning with relief as he grabs a pitcher and pours water into a crystal cup, then hands it to me. I sniff it. No smell. But it’s not like I’m an expert poison sniffer or anything. I drink, mainly because I’m parched and don’t know when I’ll get my next chance at food or water.

He watches me swallow it down, then holds his hand out for the empty glass. When I reach out to give it to him, he stills, his eyes narrowing. Ferocious. That’s the only word for the look on his face. I clutch the fur and scoot away from him.

With fluid fury he reaches to the table behind him and draws an enormous silver sword.

A choked sound catches in my throat as he raises it. I’m going to die.

“Please, don’t.” It’s the only words I can get out as he lunges toward me.


About Lily:
Lily Archer believes in fairies, mermaids, and fierce fae warriors. Armed with nothing more than her imagination and a well-worn MacBook, she intends to slay the darkest beasts of the fantasy worlds and create true love where none seemed possible.


Subscribe to Lily’s Newsletter!









Giveaway Details: 
1 winner will receive an 10 Amazon Gift Card, International.

Ends on February 28th at Midnight EST!


CURSE OF THE FAE QUEEN by Delia Castel Release Day Blitz: Excerpt and Giveaway



I am so excited that CURSE OF THE FAE QUEEN by Delia Castel is available now and that I get to share the news!
If you haven’t yet heard about this wonderful book by Author Delia Castel, be sure to check out all the details below.
This blitz also includes a giveaway for a $25 Amazon Gift Card, International, courtesy of Delia and Rockstar Book Tours. So if you’d like a chance to win, enter in the Rafflecopter at the bottom of this post.


Title: CURSE OF THE FAE QUEEN
Author: Delia Castel
Pub. Date: February 14, 2019
Publisher: Delia Castel
Formats: Paperback, eBook
Pages: 231
Find it: GoodreadsAmazon

A Huntress of Faeries. Five cursed Fae Princes. An evil that will destroy the world. 

When Eighteen-year-old Neara saves a villager from the clutches of a deadly faerie, the Fae Queen sends warriors to abduct her dying father in revenge. To gain his freedom, Neara must venture into the Shadowlands and obtain three enchanted objects under the supervision of the bestial Prince Drayce.

As Neara and Prince Drayce grow closer, she discovers the Queen’s scheme to release an ancient evil and enslave the mortal world. To thwart these plans, she must break the curses of five Fae Princes, but the cost of doing so is her Father’s life.

Torn between saving the human realm and saving her father, Neara must navigate this treacherous world and choose between love, liberty and power.

Curse of the Fae Queen is a reverse harem fantasy adventure for fans of A Court of Thrones and Roses and A Song of Ice and Fire! 

Excerpt:
Ch1

Wherever there was commotion, there was a faerie.

Wherever there was a faerie, someone was about to die.

I rushed after the crowd of merrymakers toward the tavern’s exit and the source of the commotion. The fresh scent of wildflowers wafted in through the open doors, a welcome respite from sweat and sawdust and sour ale. Someone’s booted foot stepped on the hem of my skirts. I snarled and yanked it free.

A leprechaun darted through the throng, slashing purses and swiping gold pieces. He stuffed his pickings into the openings of his blood-red tunic, eyes gleaming, handsome features twisted. I clutched my basket of burn salves and stared ahead, avoiding eye contact with the leprechaun, avoiding his clever fingers, and most importantly, avoiding his notice.

The folk in the Isle of Bresail say a maiden who can see the fae is twice-blessed. Blessed to behold beings of beauty and blessed again for the chance to bargain for health, riches, and immortality. Whoever said that had obviously never met a faerie.

The fae, creatures of hideous power and beauty, revel in human misery, beget bad luck, and feast upon mortal lives. Every encounter with the monsters carries the risk of being killed. Or worse, a repeat of that horrific Samhain night seven years ago, when the fae slaughtered an entire village trying to find me. Terror still grips my heart like the jaws of the hound of Culainn.

I see the fae. I fear the fae. I’m powerless to stop the fae. And I can say I am thrice cursed.

As I neared the exit, the baker’s apprentice bumped me on the shoulder, and I stumbled across the gritty floor. “Sorry, Neara!”

My gaze dropped to the salves. They lay in the basket, nestled in muslin cloth I’d wrapped around them for safekeeping. “I’m looking for Eirnin. Is he here?”

“Have you tried the forge?”

“They told me he’d be having an early dinner here.”

“Can’t say I’ve seen him.” He raised his massive shoulders. “Maybe he’s watching the spectacle Shona is making of herself in the square.” He rushed ahead, shoving through a group of sailors stumbling toward the doors.

Dread rolled through my belly like a summer thunderstorm. Shona, the haughty eldest daughter of the mayor of Calafort, would never even sip a tankard of ale in public. If she was doing something to attract the attention of drunken louts, there could be only one cause: the fae.

I stepped out into the warm evening, inhaling a lungful of fresh air. The sun hung behind a dip in the Fomori mountains, a burst of daffodil amidst clouds tinged the color of blood-red poppies. Its   yellow haze reflected off the whitewashed timber framed buildings lining the cobbled thoroughfare. My gaze traveled down to the crowd gathered at the end around the village square.

Shona, the center of the attraction, wasn’t exactly a friend. Since Father and I moved to the port town of Calafort, she had sullied my name with allegations about my associations with the blacksmith, the retired soldier of fortune, and the local priest—people vital in my private crusade against the fae.

Two young men sprinted past. The smaller of the pair yelled, “Hoist me up on your shoulders, Colman!”

“As if!” The taller gave his companion a playful shove.

A warm wind swirled around my hair, blowing vibrant, copper strands into my eyes. As usual, its color brought back memories of the night I had been willing to bargain to look… less peculiar. The night I had doomed an entire village. Guilt clawed at my gullet, and I gulped. Even if Shona had soured my existence with her gossip, I couldn’t leave anyone, not even her, to become a faerie’s prey.

I strode after the rush of drunk men, only for the familiar pull of dread to weight my steps. For reasons I couldn’t fathom, faeries had become more commonplace in Calafort and more malevolent. Benign household spirits and mischief makers were replaced by malicious beings of unusual and tremendous power.

The innkeeper’s wife stormed out of the crowd, skirts swishing, shooting sharp glares at the men rushing through the cobbled thoroughfare. 

“Don’t think I won’t tell your wives and mothers about your disgraceful conduct!” she screeched at their backs. “There should be a law against giving an audience to a public harlot!”

An iron fist clenched my heart. “Mrs. Martin?”

“What?” She whirled around, auburn locks falling from her bonnet.

“Are you talking about Shona Mulloy?”

Her thin lips twisted. “She’ll never be able to put on airs and graces, that one. Not after revealing the wanton hussy beneath that false piety!”

My pulse throbbed in my throat. Not waiting to ask any further questions, I broke into a run. The only cause for Shona to make a public spectacle was magic, and no one could stop it but me.

Hoots and cheers and roars exploded from the podium, louder than a clap of thunder, making me trip on a loose cobblestone. Splaying out my hands for balance, I slowed my steps. What in the name of all that was holy did I think I was doing? Father’s words echoed in my skull. Every encounter with a faerie increased the chance of being captured. The creature behind Shona’s shameless display could be one of the horsemen from that terrible Samhain night. What if he recognized me?

I brought my feet to an abrupt stop. After six years of moving from place to place, we had a mere week before the dense mist covering the coast of Bresail would clear. No merrow could lurk in the waters, calling people to their deaths with their enchanted music, and no kelpies would board the ship and attack. Father and I planned to gain passage on a ship to Hibernia, the land where holy men slew monsters to protect the innocent. Guilt crawled up my back and clung to my shoulders like the talons of a night hag. If I did anything to ruin our chance, Father’s sickness might not grant him another seven years

“Get ’em off!” cried one drunken reveler.

“What kind of lass can’t even undo her own corset?” shouted another.

Guffaws filled the air, and someone bellowed, “The pampered sort!”

My eyes widened. Before good sense could prevail, my feet pounded the cobblestones, and I reached the edge of the crowd. Pushing my way through the eager men, I caught a glimpse of the spectacle. The bodice of Shona’s dress hung around her waist like a shed skin, her breasts jutting out of her under-bust corset. She had hitched her skirts, revealing her thighs and glimpses of a thicket of mahogany, pubic hair.

“Higher!” screamed a drunkard.

Blood surged through my ears, dulling the men’s lascivious shouts. My jaw clenched so hard, it throbbed in time with my raging pulse. I turned my head away, understanding why Mrs Martin had been so incensed. No-one, not even Shona the gossip, deserved to be humiliated in such a fashion!

Using the bodies of the leering men as cover, I receded into the crowd and studied the men in the direction of her glazed stare. The usual village louts and ne’er do wells jostled each other about in the front, but one male stood out from the rabble. Not because his silk jacket was too fine for the village of Calafort, not because he was the only man remaining calm amidst the scandalous display, but because his face was devoid of features and did not even have a nose.

His eyes, fathomless tunnels of black, stared at her with a cold amusement. Around his unlit pipe, one corner of his lips curved into a whisper of a smile.

Gancanagh.

The word popped into the forefront of my mind. It came from the leather-bound book Father insisted that I study for hours every evening. The gancanagh was a silver-tongued, shapeshifter faerie who could morph into a woman’s heart’s desire and drive her into a frenzy of wantonness. While a gancanagh enjoyed sexual contact with women, what really nourished them was the ensuing despair he caused from withdrawing his affections and ruining her reputation.

Ostracized, isolated, and full of despair, his victim would commit suicide, providing him with a condemned soul upon which to feast.

“If you can’t manage the corset, open your legs and give us a good show!” bellowed the inn-keeper to a roar of drunken cheers.

Shona’s head lolled to the side, and she moaned. “Please… I need you!”

The gancanagh nodded, indicating for her to do as they said.

Disgust curdled my stomach, making me want to spit. That was as much as I could stand. Delving shaking fingers into my pocket, I gathered a heavy pinch of salt. It soaked up magic, rendering the attacks of many faeries useless.

Then, I put it under my tongue, suppressed a grimace, and pushed through the crowd, making sure not to look at the gancanagh.

“Shona Mulloy,” I shouted, making my voice as shrill as Mrs. Martin’s. “Your father would be ashamed of you!”

She ignored me, as I had expected. Those in the thrall of a gancanagh became powerless to do anything but his bidding. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and she hiked her skirts to her waist, eliciting ear-ringing catcalls.

“That’s a bushy tail if ever I saw one!” yelled a voice from within the crowd.

Affecting a shriek of outrage, I slapped her hard across the face, ensuring that my iron ring made contact with her lip. The salt remaining on my fingers must have either gotten into her mouth or into the tiny cut my ring made, because her eyes focused.

“Get yourself home,” I screeched. “You’re giving all the womenfolk of Calafort a bad name!” I yanked on her arm, hoping to convince the gancanagh that I hadn’t noticed it.

“Neara, show us your ginger muff!” shouted a heckler.

I ignored the drunken dolt and headed to a gap in the crowd. A few of the men, now shamefaced, stepped aside. Rage seared my veins. Any one of them could have intervened, but they had chosen to let a neighbor debauch herself. According to the information in my book, the gancanagh’s allure only affected women and only if they touched him of their own accord. There was no reason, apart from malicious lechery, that they couldn’t have stopped Shona from falling to ruin.

A hand wrapped around my wrist, its chill seeping through my skin, permeating my bones to the marrow. I suppressed a shudder. The fae, immortal creatures that were neither alive nor dead, were nothing like humans. My leather-bound book said they were the offshoot of a supernatural race called the Fomorians, but from what I had seen over the years, and I had seen a lot, they were hungry spirits made flesh. The only thing that differed from one type of faerie to another was what satisfied their appetites.

Gritting my teeth, I turned my head and glared at the hand restraining me. It was an effort to keep my voice from trembling, but I focussed on my anger and said, “Let go of my person, sir.”

“Permit me to introduce myself.” He released my wrist, gave me a gentlemanly bow, and held out an elegant, smooth-skinned hand that could have belonged to an artist or a Prince. “I am Gerald Canice, and I wish to commend you on your valiant rescue of that young lady’s virtue.”

“I would be doing a better job if you didn’t keep me here talking,” I snapped. “Excuse me.”

Most would have lowered their hand and stepped away at my rudeness. This creature did not. He glided closer, still with his hand outstretched, now turned as though he wanted to take mine and press a kiss on my knuckles. “Please… I must know your name.”

“It’s Neara,” shouted a drunk. “And she’s interested in nothing but stinking herbs and withered old men!”

My face heated, indicating a blush as red a hawthorn berries, one of the many disadvantages of having skin the pallor of diluted milk. The drunks snickered, and I pressed my lips together, trying to exhale my anger through flared nostrils.

“Ignore those louts.” His voice soft and cultured, just as I would imagine a storybook Prince. “Won’t you at least look at me?”

As though of its own volition, my gaze lifted to his face. It was no longer the characterless visage from earlier. He now resembled the raven-haired faerie whose presence had cursed me with the sight. A bolt of shock shot through my heart as fast as lighting, jolting it into action. I drew in a sharp breath between my teeth.

Everything vanished from my attention. The crowd of drunken men, the sobbing girl at my side, the fear of being discovered by the fae. It all faded now that Gerald had caught me in his mesmerizing, viridian-green gaze.

His full lips split into a breath-stealing smile of even, white teeth, rising up to high cheekbones, and leading to eyes so longing they wrung my heart.

“Neara…” My name sounded like supplication on lips that begged to be kissed. “I am delighted to make your acquaintance.”

One of my hands twitched toward his still outstretched hand. My mouth dried, not because of the salt, but due to the warmth pooling between my legs, creating a fire that only he could quench.

My throat dried, partially because of the salt under my tongue, but mostly because of the male’s beauty. If he had chosen any other face, I would have ignored the gancanagh, but I couldn’t resist this dark-haired, green eyed apparition. 

A tiny voice, as quiet and persistent as a midge, whispered that it was a trap. The monster wanted to infect me with the venom coating his skin and see me debased before my village.

“I…” A gulp interrupted words that had already withered in my throat. I had come prepared, wearing a bracelet of iron with a matching torque and ring, but I hadn’t anticipated being faced with the being who haunted my dreams… my deepest, most oft-denied desire.

“Neara,” said a voice hoarse with tears.

I turned to lock gazes with Shona, her eyes bloodshot and brimming with tears.

“Will you take me home?”

Her voice was the splash of saltwater I needed to break gancanagh’s spell. Without a backward glance, I pulled her away from the lecherous gazes of the crowd, trying not to succumb to the pit of dread wrenching open my stomach. Once again, I had attracted the attention of the fae. The gancanagh likely wouldn’t work out that I had seen through him, but my awakening of Shona from her stupor would have at least aroused his curiosity.

Shona and I walked unmolested through the crowd of degenerates, many were now slinking back to the tavern. Without his audience, the gancanagh would not pursue us. He fed on the humiliation of his victims, delighted in their ruin and not their lust.
His gaze, heavy on my back, turned my steps to lead. The gancanagh was likely evaluating me, wondering why I could resist his magic. My throat thickened, and I gulped down my rising panic. This was exactly the kind of thing Father had warned me against. We could not flee Bresail if we attracted the attention of the fae, and I had done exactly that!  If the wicked creature stayed to satisfy his curiosity, we were doomed.

A curious faerie always attracted others, and I of all people would know that arousing the interest of the creatures was deadly.

*****

The folk in the Isle of Bresail say a maiden who can see the fae is twice-blessed. Blessed to behold beings of beauty and blessed again for the chance to bargain for health, riches, and immortality. Whoever said that had obviously never met a faerie.

The fae, creatures of hideous power and beauty, revel in human misery, beget bad luck, and feast upon mortal lives. Every encounter with the monsters carries the risk of being killed. Or worse, a repeat of that horrific Samhain night seven years ago, when the fae slaughtered an entire village trying to find me. Terror still grips my heart like the jaws of the hound of Culainn.

I see the fae. I fear the fae. I’m powerless to stop the fae. And I can say I am thrice cursed.




About Delia:
Delia Castel has loved fairytales for as long as she can remember. The books she writes under this pen name are steamy, reverse harem retellings of classic stories.

To download a free copy of The Big Bad She-Wolf as well as the exclusive chapters that follow the tale, visit:









Giveaway Details:
1 winner will receive a $10 Amazon GC, International.



Kill Code – Excerpt and Giveaway

About The Book:

Title: KILL CODE

Author: Luna Kayne

Pub. Date: January 22, 2019

Formats: Paperback, eBook

Pages: 317

Find it: GoodreadsAmazonAmazon Canada

HOW FAR WOULD YOU GO TO PROTECT THE ONES YOU LOVE?

THEN

Ten years ago, a covert government operation gone wrong separated Jack from Jessa, the girl he promised he would never leave.

NOW

Jack’s special forces team receives a tip, leading them to a remote farmhouse in search of a group of hackers led by the elusive Zane who work for the same person he holds responsible for Jessa’s death, ten years earlier.

Past and present collide as what was once lost is now standing in front of him and appears to be working for the very evil he is trying to end.

But is everything as it seems as secrets begin to unravel and pieces are put back in their proper places?

And will the last missing piece, the answer to all of their problems, be found in time?

*** Due to some dark and explicit themes in this book, it is recommended for mature audiences only. ***

* Kill Code is the first book in a trilogy.

Excerpt:

“Wake up, Jack. We’re moving out. Your assignment is done.”

My commanding officer barks his orders out, jolting me awake. I open my eyes and try to focus as the dawn barely lights the room around me.

“What do you mean, done? Last night we were waiting on the search warrants. We had the whole family. It was going down… today.” Propping myself up on my elbows, I shake my head, trying to will myself to catch up.

Going over the last few days in my head, this doesn’t make sense. I’ve been on the ground with my unit for months now working special ops undercover with local law enforcement on a federal level. Collecting whatever evidence we could and rounding up witnesses. Everything finally began to snowball together three days ago.

First one witness came forward, then a second, then the third came in with solid proof. With Port Thomas being a smaller city near the coast in Oregon, law enforcement is always underfunded so they were thankful for the additional manpower, as long as we didn’t step on too many toes.

We had our mission in place for today, but this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

“It blew up. Shit went down a few hours ago. Apparently, they knew we were coming. The Sparr family is gone. All of the evidence against them is now speculative. Four witnesses are dead. Another two are missing.” Then, as he opens his mouth, I see the hesitation in his eyes as his body physically braces for a fight.

“Jack.” My commander starts then stops, carefully considering his words with a frustrating pause. “It’s Jessa. Both her and her brother’s bodies are missing.”

“What do you mean, missing?” Then the weight of his words hits me. “Wait. What do you mean, bodies?” I bolt out of bed onto shaky legs as I feel my world begin to crumble piece by piece.

He chose his words carefully. She isn’t missing.

Her body is missing.

About the book The story for Kill Code began to come to me when I was around 90% done writing my first novel, Controlling Interests, which made finishing that book a little more challenging. The interesting thing about Kill Code is, when I first had the idea for the book, it was the ending that came to me first so I had to work backwards through it to create the supporting story and characters before I could start writing from the beginning. I was about half way through the book when I realized the story would expand into a trilogy and some of my supporting characters would have their own stories to tell before it was over. I also did not come up with the title until I was on my last chapter when the titles for all three books came to me.

About Luna:

Luna Kayne is a multi-published author in the romance and erotica genres. Her creative works include novels, novelettes and a book of poetry and prose.

Within the romance genre, her books and short stories are also listed under suspense, paranormal, BDSM and contemporary.

The woman behind Luna Kayne’s pen name has been writing for online publications since 2005. She writes from her home on an acreage near Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada.

Website |Twitter | Facebook | Instagram |Amazon Author Page | BookBub | Goodreads

Giveaway Details:

3 winners will win an eBook of KILL CODE, International.

Giveaway Link:

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/e2389ba2878/?

Tour Schedule:

Week One:

1/14/2019- Simply Daniel Radcliffe– Review

1/14/2019- Texan Holly Reads– Excerpt

1/14/2019-The Little BookwormReview

1/15/2019- Bookish Rantings– Spotlight

1/15/2019- BookHounds– Excerpt

1/15/2019-Lisa Loves LiteratureSpotlight

1/16/2019- Angelic Book Reviews– Excerpt

1/16/2019- Jrsbookreviews– Excerpt

1/17/2019- Smada’s Book Smack– Spotlight

1/17/2019- Colorimetry– Excerpt

1/18/2019- TMBA Corbett Tries to Write– Spotlight

1/18/2019- Two Chicks on Books– Excerpt

Week Two:

1/21/2018- A Gingerly Review– Excerpt

1/21/2018- Good Choice Reading– Excerpt

1/22/2018- Tales of A Ravenous Reader– Excerpt

1/22/2018- Parajunkee– Excerpt

1/23/2018- Owl Always Be Reading– Excerpt

1/23/2018- Adventures Thru WonderlandExcerpt

1/24/2018- Jaime’s World– Excerpt

1/24/2019- Books a Plenty Book ReviewsPlaylist

1/25/2018- Bookbriefs– Excerpt

ONLY A BREATH APART by Katie McGarry – Excerpt Reveal

   

Would you dare to defy destiny? Are our destinies written in stone? Do we become nothing more than the self-fulfilling prophesies of other people’s opinions? Or can we dare to become who we believe we were born to be?

 

“A gorgeous, heartfelt journey of redemption and love” (Wendy Higgins), ONLY A BREATH APART is a young adult contemporary novel from critically acclaimed Katie McGarry. “Haunting, authentic, and ultimately hopeful” (Tammara Webber), ONLY A BREATH APART will be available on all retailers on January 22, 2019!

   

About ONLY A BREATH APART:

Jesse dreams of working the land that’s been in his family forever. But he’s cursed to lose everything he loves most.

Scarlett is desperate to escape her “charmed” life. But leaving a small town is easier said than done.

Despite their history of heartbreak, when Jesse sees a way they can work together to each get what they want, Scarlett can’t say no.Each midnight meeting between Jesse and Scarlett will push them to confront their secrets and their feelings for each other.

 

Amazon | Kobo | Google Play | B-A-M | Barnes & Noble | iBooks

   

Gritty and real, Only a Breath Apart is a story of hope conjured from pain, strength drawn from innocence, and love earned from self-respect. Beautiful, poignant, and fierce.” ―Kristen Simmons, critically acclaimed author of the Article 5 series


 

Add it to your Goodreads today!

      Excerpt: SCARLETT I’m defying my parents by attending a funeral. Reckless and adventurous teenage behavior, I know. Most seventeen-year-olds lie to their parents so they can go on a date with a forbidden boy or attend a party where there will be questionable behavior. Me? I’m outright lying to my dad, and it’s because Jesse Lachlin’s grandmother died. The entire way here I’ve questioned my sanity, but I don’t know how I’d live with myself if I stayed home. Jesse Lachlin used to be my childhood best friend. We were inseparable. We had the type of friendship people strive to have, and then, a few years ago, he cut me so deeply that I still bleed. But ten-year-old me would have never abandoned a hurting Jesse. So today I’m not only honoring the memory of Jesse’s grandmother, but also the memory of our dead friendship. On my way to the funeral, the high grass of the field swats at my legs, but I don’t mind the sting. I love walking barefoot in grass, I love the smell of the earth and I love that brief feeling of freedom open spaces can provide. It’s the dog days of August. The type of hot that starts when the sun rises and makes you sweat through your clothes within minutes. While my skin and palms are on fire, the pads of my feet are cool against the dirt. The heat is unwelcome, but the sky is deep blue and the sun is bright, and for that, I can be grateful. Walking out of the field, I stop short of crossing the one-lane road to slip on the flats that dangle from my fingertips. My mother would be mortified if she knew I was entering a church in a cotton daisy-print sundress. It’s not one of the dresses with stiff fabric and impossible back zippers she would have picked for me at an overpriced department store. It’s the type that’s machine-washable and breathable. The type of dress Jesse’s grandmother would have given her stamp of approval. I can practically hear my mother heavily sigh and mumble my name, Scarlett, as if it were her personal, private curse word. Mom believes there’s a certain way to dress and behave, and I’m breaking all sorts of her rules today. Watch out, world. I’m officially rebellious. I smile to myself because I’m the opposite of rebellious. For the last few years, I’ve followed every rule. I’m the teacher’s pet and the girl with straight A’s. I’m the poster child of perfection, and have earned every snarky ice princess comment Jesse’s friends whisper about me in the school hallways because he and I no longer speak. There are only six cars in the parking lot of the white church, and that makes me frown. I thought more people would have wanted to attend. Jesse’s mud-covered pickup is there, and so is an unnaturally clean black Mercedes that belongs to his uncle. This ought to be interesting. Jesse and his uncle have a mutual hate for each other that runs deeper than any root of any tree. Movement to my right and I slowly turn my head. Shivers run down my spine at the sight of Glory Gardner. Even though I’m seventeen and too old for ghost stories, I still can’t shake the ones regarding this woman. Girls would whisper over lunch boxes that Glory was a witch. As I grew older, I understood that witch meant con artist. She claims she can read palms, tarot cards and “sees” spirits from beyond the dead. All for a glorious fee. She’s a beautiful woman—long dirty blond hair that’s untamed, even in a bun, and she has an eclectic taste in clothing. Today she wears a white peasant shirt and a flowing skirt made of material that shimmers in the sun. Glory watches me like I watch her, with morbid curiosity. I knew her as a child, back when Jesse and I ran wild in the fields near her home, but we haven’t talked in years. She stands under the shade of a towering weeping willow. There are lots of those trees around here. Mom says it’s because there is too much water in the ground. I say it’s because the people in this town have cried too many tears. Mom doesn’t like my answer. I tilt my head toward the church, an unspoken question if Glory will be joining me. She shakes her head no. I’m not shocked. According to rumors, Glory will go up in flames if she enters the house of God. But who knows? Maybe I will, too. The church is one of those picturesque, historical, one-room school buildings squeezed between a cornfield on one side and a hay field on the other. A huge steeple with a bell attempts to reach the heavens, but like anything created by a human, it falls tragically short. The foreboding wooden door makes no noise as I open it, and I’m able to slip in without a huge, squeaking announcement. Orange light filters in through the dark stained glass windows, and its struggling beams reveal millions of dancing particles of dust. On the altar, there’s no casket, but there is an urn. My heart dips—Suzanne is dead. I used to wish she were my grandmother, and many times, she treated me as if I belonged to her. Suzanne was the epitome of love, and the world feels colder now that she’s gone. Choosing a spot in the back, I drop into a pew, and as I scan the church my stomach churns. How is it possible that this place is so barren? Besides the Funeral Brigade, or the FB, as I like to refer to them, there aren’t many people here. The FB are the older group of woman who attend every funeral in our small town even if they didn’t know the person. Attending funerals isn’t my idea of fun, but who am I to judge? The FB sit directly behind the one person the town believes to be the lone sane member of the Lachlin family, probably because he isn’t blood related—Jesse’s uncle. On the left side of the church is Jesse. Only Jesse. And that causes a painful pang in my chest. Where are his stinking friends? The anarchists in training who follow Jesse wherever he goes? Where is the rest of the town? Yes, Suzanne was polarizing, but still, where is any respect? Quietly, so I don’t draw attention to myself, I slip from the right set of pews to the left. Someone should be on Jesse’s side, and it’s sad it has to be me. A door at the front of the church opens, and the pastor walks out from the addition the church build on as a small office ten years ago. I would have thought any pastor assigned to this place would be as ancient as this church. Sort of like an Indiana Jones Knights Templar scenario where he lives forever as long as he stays inside. But no, he’s the youngest pastor from the main, newer church in town. His name is Pastor Hughes, and he’s a thirty-something black man with a fit build who is just cute enough that he should be starring in a movie. The pastor looks up, and he flinches as if startled. I peek over my shoulder then sigh. Clearly, he’s surprised to see me. Flipping fantastic. His reaction, and the fact he won’t stop staring, causes every person to turn their heads. Lovely. I’ve had dreams like this where I enter a room and become the center of attention. Only in my dreams it’s at school, it’s my classmates and I’m naked, but still, this is disconcerting. Eventually, the FB and Jesse’s uncle return their attention to the front, but Jesse doesn’t. He rests his arm on the back of the pew, and it’s hard to ignore that he’s made me his sole focus, but I do my best to act as if I don’t notice. To help, I concentrate on what my mom taught me as a child—to make sure the skirt of my dress is tucked appropriately so that my thighs don’t show. I then fold my hands in my lap and straighten to a book-on-head posture. I can be the ice princess people claim me to be. Five pews separate me and Jesse, and it’s not nearly enough. My cheeks burn under his continued inspection. Jesse has done this a handful of times since our freshman year. Glance at me as if I’m someone worth looking at, someone worth laughing with a little too loud and smiling with a little too much. Then he remembers who I am and snaps his gaze to someone else. But he’s not looking away now.   Katie McGarry Bio: Katie McGarry was a teenager during the age of grunge and boy bands and remembers those years as the best and worst of her life. She is a lover of music, happy endings, reality television, and is a secret University of Kentucky basketball fan. Katie is the author of full length YA novels, PUSHING THE LIMITS, DARE YOU TO, CRASH INTO YOU, TAKE ME ON, BREAKING THE RULES, and NOWHERE BUT HERE and the e-novellas, CROSSING THE LINE and RED AT NIGHT. Her debut YA novel, PUSHING THE LIMITS was a 2012 Goodreads Choice Finalist for YA Fiction, a RT Magazine’s 2012 Reviewer’s Choice Awards Nominee for Young Adult Contemporary Novel, a double Rita Finalist, and a 2013 YALSA Top Ten Teen Pick. DARE YOU TO was also a Goodreads Choice Finalist for YA Fiction and won RT Magazine’s Reviewer’s Choice Best Book Award for Young Adult Contemporary fiction in 2013.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads | Pinterest | Tumbler | Instagram

   

My Lullaby of You Blog Tour: Excerpt and Giveaway

MY LULLABY OF YOU

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About the Book:

My Lullaby of You_Cover FinalTitle: MY LULLABY OF YOU

Author: Alia Rose

Pub. Date: June 16, 2018

Publisher: Plum Anchor Press

Formats: Paperback, eBook

Pages: 287

Find it: GoodreadsAmazon

 

For fans of Jenny Han and Sarah Dessen, My Lullaby of You is a Young Adult Contemporary Romance about guarded love, complicated families, and the summer that changes everything. 
AMY

It’s the summer after high school. Amy can’t wait to leave her small hometown in North Carolina for the vibrant city of Chicago, where she plans to go to her dream college and hopes to build a stronger relationship with her father.
But as she deals with her mother’s resentment over her leaving and an intriguing yet provoking college student, Amy’s reminded of things she’s tried to forget and forced to face emotions she never expected.
SETH

It’s the summer before the last year of music school. Seth would rather be anywhere else than a small beach town in North Carolina, reopening wounds he thought he’d patched long ago and facing the father he hasn’t seen since his mother’s death.
While on his mission for answers, Seth is drawn to an observant and driven local he can’t seem to figure out. 2950337_orig

 

Excerpt:

My moment in smoothie paradise was rudely interrupted by a body plopping down next to me. I didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“Now what do you want?” I demanded.

“I want,” he said, “your name.”

I looked up and Obnoxious Guy smiled at me. I felt myself flush but was glad I was probably already red from running. I glared at him and turned back to the beach.

“Why?”

“Why not?” he challenged.

“Why are you answering me with a question?” I asked, getting annoyed.

“Because you didn’t answer mine.”

“Wanting to know my name is not a question,” I pointed out.

He opened his mouth and then closed it. I took the opportunity to get up and start walking away.

“Wait,” he called after me, “why are you always storming off?”

I stopped and turned back around. “Why are you stalking me?”

“I am not stalking you.” He scoffed. “Trying to buy you a smoothie for your sorry attempt to save me.” He paused, holding back a laugh. I raised my eyebrows and he continued. “Bumping into you at the beach last night and you sitting with me was not stalking you.” He walked closer to me, staring at me intensely. I stared back, not lowering my gaze. He blinked away from me and faced the water.

I could have walked away then, but I decided not to.

“Amy,” I said, finally giving in and sitting back down.

He glanced at me, then back at the ocean before joining me on the sand. “You’re pretty impossible.”

 I found this to be satisfying. “So I’ve been told.”

We continued sitting there, waiting for the other to say something.

“So what’s your story?” he finally asked.

“My story?” I repeated.

“Yeah, your story?” he echoed, still staring straight ahead.

I sighed. “Okay, I was born and raised here. I live with my mom and stepdad. I just graduated a week ago.” I paused. “I’m a lifeguard,” I emphasized, giving him a look. “And I’m going off to college once summer ends.”

 He nodded. I looked at him curiously. I wondered why he cared.

“Why?” I asked.

“Why what?”

“Why are you asking?”

He laughed quietly, running a hand through his hair. I looked at him with my eyebrows raised, waiting.

He looked back at me and held my gaze before saying, “I was curious.”

“You were curious.”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “You seem interesting.”

“Trying to drown you and accusing you of being a stalker is interesting?” I questioned.

“Hah, yeah, it is,” he said, “to me.”

I shook my head, not understanding him at all. He was different. Weird. Strange. I told him this.

“So I’ve been told,” was his reply. Figures.


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About Alia:

AliaI’ve been writing since I fell in love with reading and now the characters in my head refuse to leave me alone. My debut novel, My Lullaby of You comes out in June 2018!

When I’m not writing, I work full time as an architectural designer and enjoy drinking too much coffee, making to-do lists, and traveling.

You can find me rambling about all of the above on Instagram and Twitter.

 

Website | Twitter | Instagram | Pinterest | Goodreads | Amazon Author Page

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Giveaway Details:

 1 winner will win a signed finished paperback copy of MY LULLABY OF YOU a bookmark, a bookish beach towel, a beach inspired candle and annotation cards, US Only.

 Rafflecopter link:

 http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/e2389ba2769/?

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Tour Schedule:

Week One:

6/25/2018- Mama Reads Blog– Blogger Made Playlist

6/26/2018- Here’s to Happy Endings– Review

6/27/2018- What’s Your Story Reviews– Review

6/28/2018- Books & Other Pursuits– Review

6/29/2018- BookHounds YA– Interview

 

Week Two:

7/2/2018- Simply Kelina– Review

7/3/2018- A Gingerly Review– Excerpt

7/4/2018- the bookdragon– Review

7/5/2018- Sincerely Karen Jo– Review

7/6/2018- Book Briefs– Review

 

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