Monthly Archives: November 2014

Kiss My Ash by Renee George Release Day #Giveaway

Today I have an excerpt from Renee George’s brand new menage release, Kiss My Ash. Renee is also giving away a $20 Amazon gift card, so don’t forget to click the Rafflecopter after you read a snippet!

 

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Blurb: 

A werewolf who’s hairless in full shift.

A water sprite who can’t hold his shape at the slightest touch of water.

An ash-tree nymph with a black thumb who kills every bit of flora in her vicinity.

That’s Fortunate, Missouri, in a nutshell—the town for abnormal paranormals. Nymph Romy, however, can one-up them all—her particular flaw is killing her. But thanks to a possible love spell, the wolf and the water sprite could be Romy’s key to cheating death. And the three misfits may find that even imperfect creatures can still create a sexy, loving, perfect union.

Inside Scoop:  Sol, Romy and Lucien love each other—emotionally, spiritually and physically. Which means both ménage and male/male action. You lucky reader, you.

A Romantica® paranormal erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

 

Excerpt: 

By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, please exit this site.

An Excerpt From: KISS MY ASH

Copyright © RENEE GEORGE, 2014

All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.

 

Mathias was a korrigan, a fairy dwarf, and to his detriment, he’d been born male. An abomination amongst the korrigans, who were always female. Even his own mother had wanted him dead, but you can’t kill an immortal.

When he finally strolled out from behind the counter, his height no more than four feet, he held a red clay pot filled to the brim with a dark, loamy soil. Carefully, he handed it to Romy. “Here.”

She stepped away. “And what the hell am I supposed to do with dirt?” Maybe Mathias was tired of her bringing back dead plant after dead plant. It didn’t matter how much she watered the damn things, fed them, or even talked to them—none survived. She’d stopped giving them names after a while, awash with guilt and shame over each death.

His red eyes sparkled with excitement. “In this soil, there is a very special seed, my girl. Very rare and unique. I’m entrusting you with its care.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. There is no way in hell I’m taking on a ‘rare and unique’ plant. No. No. No. Give me a hardy shrub or weed. Better yet, maybe a cabbage. I won’t feel so bad about a cabbage when it croaks.”

Romy was a dryad; specifically, an ash tree nymph. Which meant, in theory, plants should flourish around her, but she couldn’t even keep her own tree alive. Her mother had postulated it had something to do with the sperm donor, aka Romy’s biological father, but the elder dryad had refused to say more on the subject. Tree nymphs were traditionally a love-’em-and-leave-’em race of females. They didn’t get involved with beings they considered no more than means to an end. Males born to tree nymphs always developed into the same race as the male halves of the couplings, while the females were always dryads.

Unfortunately, something had gone very wrong in the making of Romy. It hadn’t taken long after the dryad equivalent of puberty set in before her people had decided she was toxic.

She pushed the pot back to Mathias. “Uh-uh. You’ve seen my track record.”

When her “birth defect” had eventually started to affect the trees of her forest six months ago, Romy had been summarily kicked out by the other dryads. Of course, her people had called it a “long, extended respite” and sent her to the town of Fortunate, Missouri.

The moniker, over the years, had become a joke. The town had been named after the Fortunate Isles, also called the Isles of the Blessed, and had been used for more than two hundred years as a dumping ground for the “paranormally challenged”. Those who didn’t fit in with their own kind were sent to Fortunate to finish out their days. For immortals like Mathias, the end of days was a long-ass time.

For Romy, well…without a tree to tend, she wouldn’t live another year, the chlorophyll drying in her veins. The plants were test subjects for her, to see if she could sustain life. So far, they’d served only to help ease the ache of dying. But as far as tending plants and making them flourish, she failed constantly.

For Mathias to trust her with a “special” plant…no way was she taking on that kind of responsibility.

It was one thing to kill a common houseplant, but a whole ’nother thing to be responsible for something “rare and unique”. Was Mathias crazy? Romy shook her head again. “I can’t. Don’t you have an air plant or something? Hell, those suckers don’t even require watering.”

He patted her hands, his fingers soothing and gentle. “Ah, but my dear, I hope this may be the answer to—”

Mathias’ explanation was cut off by a barking baritone. “Ah, shit!”

Romy put the pot on the counter as she scooted around Mathias to see who the unfamiliar voice belonged to.

In the greenhouse area beyond the main shop, two long, well-muscled legs and a firm ass, all packaged in perfectly tight jeans, stood nestled between two rows of plants.

“Hello,” Romy said.

The owner of the legs and ass straightened, making him a foot taller than Romy. And oh goddess, did he have an upper body and face to go with the lower half—thickly muscled chest and broad shoulders crowned by a face with bow lips, a Roman nose and the brightest green eyes. All framed by messy, shiny black hair that fell about his shoulders. It was as if the gods had decided to create perfection.

Ridiculous though—they would never do that. But hot damn, they’d come pretty close.

“Uh, hello yourself,” he said back, dusting his palms against his jeans.

His really low voice, which would have better suited a grizzly bear, sent a humming through Romy that made her body sing.

“What have you done now, Lucien?” Mathias asked when he walked into the back. His presence was enough to break the harmony, and Romy snapped out of her new-guy-induced daze.

“What a great name.” She smiled. It made her feel foolish, but she couldn’t punch down the giddiness.

“It’s a name.” He shrugged then leaned over again, which gave Romy another clear shot of his fabulous ass. When he stood once more, he held a small plant, cradling the roots carefully. He looked at Mathias. “I broke the pot, but the fern is fine.”

Lucien had a slight accent, but Romy couldn’t put her finger on the origin. If possible, it made the young man even more exotic and mysterious.

Mathias shook his head, making his red beard sweep his chest. “Where’s Sol?”

“I’m here!” Sol Winter, who’d been working for Mathias long before Romy had moved to Fortunate, stepped out from behind the last row of plants. He wore a baby-blue polo shirt that matched his light-blue eyes. It also complemented his tan, a deep golden bronze. Natural, according to him. Strange for an elf, but who was Romy to judge? His long blond hair was pulled into a ponytail. He often wore it down and spilling over his shoulders, but generally had it tied back for work.

Sol was taller than Lucien by several inches and a little broader. His smile brightened when he saw Romy. “Hey, you.” His mouth turned down in sympathy. “Kill another one?”

They’d had a strange relationship ever since Romy had arrived in Fortunate, which generally involved spirited banter and sarcasm. Even when the conversation turned a little mean, Romy was still thankful for Sol. He was the closest thing she had to a friend.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Nice.” He raised a brow. “Bitchy much?”

Even though she was certain Sol was gay, it didn’t stop her from having some wicked fantasies about him. After all, the man was hot-hot and knew how to dress. “Takes one to know one.”

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the oak this morning.” Sol scooped a handful of topsoil and pitched it at her.

“Oh no you didn’t.” In retaliation, Romy grabbed a nearby hose and squeezed the nozzle trigger, dowsing Sol where he stood.

“Stop!” Lucien yelled.

Too late. At Lucien’s shout, Romy turned, the spray of water slapping across the man’s face—and Lucien instantly melted into a clear puddle on the greenhouse floor.

Mortified, she dropped the hose. “Oh no!” She shook her head and stumbled forward. “What have I done?” Not only was she a plant killer, apparently she was a man killer as well.

Two lips formed in the clear pool. “I’m fine. Really.”

 

Kiss My Ash now has an Amazon pre-order link!
 

Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/Renee_George

Author Bio: Multi-published, best-selling author Renee George has been a factory worker, an army medic, a nurse, a website designer, a small press editor, an artist, and a teacher, but writing stories about sexy alpha men is the BEST job she’s ever had. When she turned thirty, she went back to college and earned her BA in creative writing. She has been married to the love of her life, a wonderful man who supports in every way, for over half her life (and that is a VERY long time!). She happily lives in a small, Midwest town with her husband, two needy dogs and a very independent cat. Anything else you want to know, just ask. She’ll give you all the nitty gritty dirt.

Author Contact:

https://www.facebook.com/renee.george.351

https://www.facebook.com/authorreneegeorge

http://www.twitter.com/@reneegeorge2008

http://www.pinterest.com/reneegeorge12/

Newsletter: http://mad.ly/signups/99493/join

 

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Five Horrible Ways to Die in Restoration London: Guest Post

Today I have fellow Liquid Silver author Jessica Cale visiting with a fun but deadly post. 🙂 Her historical suspense novel, Tyburn, is due out on December 8th, which also happens to be my birthday. I know one thing I’ll definitely be doing that day—reading this book because I’ve already pre-ordered it.

 

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Blurb:

Sally Green is about to die.

Nick Virtue is a tutor with a secret. By night he operates as a highwayman, relieving nobles of their riches to further his brother’s criminal enterprise. It’s a difficult balance at the best of times, and any day that doesn’t end in a noose is a good one. Saving Sally means risking his reputation, and may end up costing him his life. She sees Death in the streets. She can taste it in her gin. She can feel it in the very walls of the ramshackle brothel where she is kept to satisfy the perversions of the wealthy. She had come to London as a runaway in search of her Cavalier father. Instead, she found Wrath, a sadistic nobleman determined to use her to fulfill a sinister ambition. As the last of her friends are murdered one by one, survival hinges on escape.

As a brutal attack throws them together, Sally finds she has been given a second chance. She is torn between the tutor and the highwayman, but she knows she can have neither. Love is an unwanted complication while Wrath haunts the streets. Nick holds the key to Wrath’s identity, and Sally will risk everything to bring him to justice.

Unless the gallows take her first.

 

Sounds great, huh?

I’ll let Jessica take it from here.

 

In my new book Tyburn, the heroine, Sally, is convinced that Death is following her, and the more you read about life in Restoration London, the more you realize that she is probably right.

Seventeenth-century London was an incredibly dangerous place, and causes of death were mostly mysterious. In his Natural and Political Observations Made Upon the Bills of Mortality, John Graunt offers some of the following explanations: traffic, sciatica, swine-pox, wen, lethargy, fear, sadness, itch, and rather worryingly, “mother.”

If the people living in Restoration London were lucky enough to survive childhood, they could be killed by several afflictions that no longer trouble us today. Apart from the most serious culprits like Tuberculosis and plague, people could die from as little as falling down in the uneven, filthy streets. Do you think you could survive Restoration London? Here’s what you’re up against:

Plague: Which one? Both the pneumonic and the bubonic plagues claimed lives throughout the period. Infection would begin with a flea bite, and from there either spread to the lungs (pneumonic) or the lymph nodes (bubonic). The pneumonic plague resulted in death within three days. The bubonic plague had a survival rate of about 30%, but still managed to kill an estimated 100,000 people in London alone between 1665-66.

Falling into a Plague Pit: In Journal of a Plague Year, Defoe describes an occurrence of a cart, driver, and horses crashing into a plague pit where it was completely swallowed by the corpses and never recovered. There were so many of these pits and they were so large that this happened frequently. There’s a massive plague pit underneath Hyde Park that has affected the path of the Underground, and other pits are still being discovered.

Syphilis (The Great Pox, the French Pox): Syphilis was probably brought to Europe by Columbus and had reached Naples by 1494 (thanks, jerk). It was seen as primarily a male problem, and was often passed to unsuspecting spouses (and any children conceived) during periods of remission. The first stage was a chancre on or near the genitals, followed by rashes and open sores. Syphilis was treated at this stage with mercury in every form from enemas, ointments, and pills to steam baths or “sweats” in mercury vapor. This treatment was somewhat successful, although it was known even at the time to cause madness. At this point, the soft tissues of the nose and palate could begin to rot, and the teeth and hair would loosen and fall out. If this stage was survived, the disease could lie dormant for up to 30 years, but could still be easily transmitted. If you were lucky enough to make it until the third and final stage of syphilis, you could look forward to madness and paralysis.

Jail Fever (Epidemic Typhus): Spread through body lice, common in dirty, overcrowded conditions, it broke out mainly in jails like Newgate. It causes fever, headache, weakness, and rash, and can lead to swelling of the heart or encephalitis.

The King’s Evil (Scrofula): Tuberculosis of the lymph nodes of the neck. It was believed to be curable by the touch of royalty as far back as Edward the Confessor. The disease often went into remission on its own, so the Royal Touch appeared to work. Charles II touched more than 90,000 people afflicted between 1660 and 1682.

Good thing Sally fancies a physician, huh?Jessica Cale

 

 

Tyburn is out December 8th from Liquid Silver Books. Pre-order now for 20% off: http://www.lsbooks.com/pre-order-coming-soon-romance-books-c322.php

Visit Jessica Cale at www.authorjessicacale.com


If Rain Is What You Want #editorsblock

So, November is going full steam ahead and I am full stop on my NaNo project. Hardly surprising. I always plan to fail (even if I don’t fail to plan). Thing is, I finished my last project at the beginning of the month, and after a couple of weeks letting it simmer I’m always anxious to dive back into the polishing business.

Oh, and it was going so smoothly. Seems I’d already re-read the first half a couple of times as I’d gone back to add/change scenes later on. The editing was breezy. I’d also had a much easier time writing that first half. At the halfway point, though, I hit the wall and my editing slowed to three pages in two hours. I don’t think I’m exaggerating. It wasn’t that it was so poorly written, it just was so not perfectly executed. Something was off.

It made sense. That spot was the same wall I’d started slamming my head into during the writing process (the first in a number of walls). It’s the wall that slowed me to a crawl and had me doubting whether or not I was wasting my time on this project; a sad scene and subsequent sex scene that had me thinking maybe I’m all set writing smut for now. Maybe I need a new genre, because I just don’t want to make this happen.

Yup, this book has been a toothpuller, but I’ve had a tough time trying to put a finger on what wasn’t working. For one, the subject matter is somewhat darkish–and I love dark, don’t get me wrong–but it’s been hard to balance the dark with romance and have it be believable. Or maybe my version of believable involves not so much sex because my one MCs has more issues than Time Magazine, and believable isn’t romantic. But wait, there is romance. And there’s even sex. It just isn’t dripping off the pages. Sometimes I get the feeling a lot of readers want wall to wall sex. You know, except for the readers who hate it.

The scene I got to today was a sad one, but my MCs are more on the fringes of the sadness–close so it affects them, but it isn’t their tragedy to own, more to watch and empathize with. Right on the heels of that is a sex scene (more or less–those are rather sparse and slow building in this book, too, which is another reason I keep wondering if I’m only screwing myself here. God knows my MCs aren’t doing much of it).

But I’m currently reading Josh Lanyon’s book on writing MM romance, and there was a little blip about how sex when people are physically injured is dumb (paraphrasing here, and no, that is not the case in my book, and yes, it is dumb) and another blip about how surviving a near death experience can be bonifying (again, paraphrasing, and also making up words). This is closer to what’s going on in my book. No, my guys don’t almost die in that particular scene, but there is a pall of death, I guess, that clouds most of the book (I know I’m really selling it here. Admit it–you’re dying to read this book! Dying. Tee hee.). Survival is a key theme, and for that reason I think I was able to twist my original scene around so it works. I think. I hope.

Of course, that’s only one wall. Plenty more where that came from. I’ll be lucky if I finish my first pass this week and then get back to dropping more words in my pathetically bereft NaNo bucket as planned.

Anyway, stay tuned for next time when I second-guess my work some more and admit to completely flunking NaNo most shitastically (told you I was planning to fail).

Oh, and enjoy this song. It’s perfect for my current editing WIP playlist. Per-fucking-fect.


Author Chris McHart’s Never Wrong

I’ve got Chris McHart here today to share an excerpt from the new release Never Wrong.

Thanks for hosting me, Kimber!

You are most welcome, Chris. Good luck with the new book. It looks great! I do so love a big age gap story. 😉

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Blurb

Jeff was raised to believe love between two men is wrong. Or is it? Can love ever be wrong?

When Jeff meets the much younger Dean, he only knows he wants him, consequences be damned. But things are not as easy, especially after Jeff’s ex calls and announces big news.

And Dean? He thinks the new neighbor is hot, but he’s not interested in something more than a rebound fuck. That’s what he tells himself, at least.

But lust isn’t a good basis for a relationship, more so since Jeff isn’t sure whether he can deal with being gay.

Love is never wrong, but can Jeff accept that?

Buy Links

http://www.mlrbooks.com/ShowBook.php?book=CMNVRWRN

http://www.amazon.com/Never-Wrong-Chris-McHart-ebook/dp/B00P9MB38C/

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Never-Wrong-Chris-McHart-ebook/dp/B00P9MB38C/

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-neverwrong-1664095-149.html

Excerpt

What the hell possessed me to buy so much shit?

I stood in front of my car’s open trunk, and tried to work out how the hell to get all this stuff up to my fifth floor apartment. Without an elevator, of course. The nice guy at the store had packed most of it in bags, but there were about eight of them. Along with a few items that were too big to fit into bags. I was going to have to make a lot of trips up and down the stairs. Damn.

I should have bought a few things at a time, not everything the first day. It figured I’d go overboard, trying to make my new apartment as comfortable as possible. Understandable though, since this was the first time I was totally, completely on my own, but I might’ve gotten a bit too much.

“You’re my new neighbor, aren’t you?”

The deep voice, coming from behind me, shot shivers down my spine. I turned. My gaze traveled up and down the man standing in front of me, and holy shit. Short, dark brown hair with grey at the temples highlighted the sharp features of his good-looking, angular face. And he had a body that made me want to beg. I didn’t know what to beg for, just that I wanted to. Damn. Muscles defined his arms, not too obvious, but clearly there. Along with the slight padding on his hips, his appearance gave me the impression that he might work out, but was definitely not obsessed with it. He was somewhere around the age of forty, forty-five, if I guessed right. A man of my tastes.

What I wouldn’t give to be allowed to run my fingers over his stomach, trace the hairs that grew there, up to his chest, where the dark curls peeked out from under his shirt. And then down to his cock, likely nestled in the same coarse hair, standing ready for me. His matted torso would contrast so nicely with my sparsely haired chest. The hairs would tickle my nipples and my stomach, right down to where I wanted to feel his touch most.

Author Bio

Chris McHart is from Germany and while an accountant, writing is Chris’s real passion. Chris likes to spend time with family and has way too many animals that demand constant attention. Chris also enjoys landscaping and cooking.

Whenever Chris has a free minute, it’s spent writing on a laptop, a cup of coffee in hand, deeply lost in the world Chris’s muses have created.

When coming up for some air, you’ll find Chris on a lot of social networks. Check out Chris’s website to see where you can find out more. Chris looks forward to hearing from you! Web: www.chrismchart.com

facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100008256641886

twitter: https://twitter.com/chris_mchart

google+: https://plus.google.com/u/0/107541761558868120374/


Cover Reveal Uriel’s Fall by Loralie Hall

 

Today I have Loralie Hall visiting to show us her revamped cover art for Uriel’s Fall. Covers are always super exciting! I loved her original cover, but I must say, this one surpasses it. 🙂

Take it away, Loralie!

When I first released Uriel’s Fall (Ubiquity #1), I was absolutely in love with the cover. Enough so that I kept the same theme going with Izrafel’s Acceptance (Ubiquity #1.5). The thing is, I still love the original covers. But in talking to fans, I’ve realized they don’t give the impression I want for this series.Loralie Hall

So all of the books are getting a makeover. These are still the same urban fantasy books. Demons, angels, and the eternal struggle between heaven and hell going corporate. But now they’ve got a little bit of a different feeling to them.

So, if you’re ready for the new look, it’s just below…

Uriel’s Fall

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Blurb

What’s a corporate demon to do, when the voice in her head is devouring her sanity from the inside out, and the hosts of heaven and hell would rather see her destroyed than surrender a power no one should possess?

Ronnie has the job any entry-level angel or demon would sell their soul for—she’s a retrieval analyst for the largest search engine in the world. Ubiquity is a joint initiative between heaven and hell. Because what better way to track all of humanity’s secrets, both good and bad, than direct access to their web browsing habits?

She might appreciate the position a little more if a) she could remember anything about her life before she started working at Ubiquity, b) the damned voice in her head would just shut up already, and c) her boss weren’t a complete control freak.

As she searches for solutions to the first two issues, and hopes the third will work itself out in performance reviews, she uncovers more petty backstabbing than an episode of Real Housewives, and a conspiracy as old as Lucifer’s descent from heaven. On top of all that, if she forgets the cover sheet on her TPS report one more time, she’s absolutely going on final written warning.

Now Ronnie’s struggling to keep her sanity and job, while stopping the voice in her head from stealing her life. She almost misses the boredom of retrieval analysis at Ubiquity.

Almost

Buy Uriel’s Fall

Uriel’s Fall is already available from all major ebook retailers, so if you haven’t grabbed a copy yet, you can snag one today

Amazon.com: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00L3WESHU

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/uriels-fall-loralie-hall/1119720777?ean=2940046001648

iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/uriels-fall-ubiquity-book-1/id888043741?mt=11

Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/uriel-s-fall-ubiquity-book-1

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/446644

Find Loralie Hall Online

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/LoralieHall

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/aszreal

Blog: http://blog.apathyshero.com

Website: http://urielsfall.com

About Loralie Hall

Loralie Hall is a full time corporate geek and a fuller time writer. Her spouse is her muse and their cats are very much their children. When they’re not spending way too much time gaming, they’re making the world more good by vanquishing one fictional evil at a time.


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