Wednesday, 2 September 2015

Dave Cravens - The God Thought - PROMO Blitz/giveaway

Science Fiction
Date Published: April 23, 2015

A MASSIVE EXPLOSION… levels a small town in Kansas and rips apart the commercial airliner flying overhead. The wife and child of Oliver Wells are among the thousands reported dead. Authorities blame the tragedy on an accident at a fertilizer plant not up to code. A year later, still grappling with his depression, Oliver is accosted by a mysterious stranger who offers another answer: 




Thrust into a hidden world of conspirators and luminaries who would do anything to attain the farmer's knowledge, Oliver finds himself in a race to confront the man who killed his family. To do so, he must test the limits of his sanity... AND UNLOCK THE POWER OF THE GOD THOUGHT FOR HIMSELF.


San Diego, CA.
May 4 – one year after the Bloomington Blast

Oliver Wells drew an exhausted breath as he stepped out of the deplane tunnel and into the airport lobby. His weary eyes scanned the blank faces of those who trolled about at the midnight hour. Though he knew it wasn’t possible, Oliver entertained the idea that the same oblivious souls who ignored his departure fifteen months prior were present to ignore his return.
Nothing has changed.
The same dank smell of cleaning chemicals assaulted Oliver’s nose just as they did before. The same broken electronic kiosk remained under repair. Even the advertisements shouted the same message from a year ago in their gaudy backlit colors. It was as if the entire San Diego International Airport had been perfectly preserved in a protective bubble, completely untouched by the hands of time.
Why did I come back?
“Holding up the line, Shaggy,” a man barked from behind.
Oliver snapped to attention. Shaggy? He looked behind himself to realize he blocked the exit for a number of passengers who flashed him glares of disdain without so much a stutter in their own cell phone conversations. Oliver stepped to the side. Before he could apologize, the offended blew past to continue their business.
 The sight of the cell phones reminded Oliver of his own. He fumbled inside his duffle bag to retrieve a phone wrapped in a filthy ziplock bag along with a house key and a wad of carefully folded paper money from various countries. The phone appeared alien to Oliver as he palmed it for the first time in several months. To his surprise, the dark display and blank reflective screen provided a crude mirror. Oliver recognized only the cold, blue eyes of the thirty-five year old that stared back at him—a scruffy brown beard and long, matted hair obscured the remainder of his face.
Who was this guy?
Oliver turned his phone on. When the device finally booted up, it occurred to him—who would he call?
No wife or child awaited Oliver’s return. His cousin would be too eager to pick up and ask where the money he owed him is. Jeff? Michael? Gretchen? The phone’s depleted battery solved the dilemma.
Oliver casually tossed the phone into a garbage can as he exited the terminal. The weary traveler stepped out onto the sidewalk to find himself immediately accosted by a Prius taxi driver desperate to earn a fare.
“Where to?” the cabbie offered a kind Latino smile as he took Oliver’s duffle bag. The man’s silver hair and laugh lines hinted at a confidence Oliver longed for.
“I used to live in Orange County,” managed Oliver. He wondered if his house was still standing and if the teenage neighbor he’d paid in advance to tend the lawn lived up to his promise.
“Used to? Is that where you want to go? Long drive. Should’ve flown into John Wayne.”
Ollie hunched his shoulders. “You want the fare or what?”
The cabbie looked Oliver up and down, his smile noticeably absent. “You have cash?”
Oliver lifted up a wad of twenty and fifty dollar bills. The cabbie’s smile returned as he opened the passenger door.
Traffic proved unusually sparse as the cab sped up the northbound five. Unable to sleep, Oliver stared blankly out the window, watching the lights flicker by in various rhythms. Thirty minutes into the drive, they coasted along the Pacific just north of Oceanside—one of the few stretches of freeways in Southern California not littered with homes or industry, illuminated only by the starry night sky and the headlamps of cars.
Oliver studied his driver through the rearview mirror, who hummed along to the mariachi songs that were emitted from the radio in low volume. That’s when Oliver noticed a familiar object resting on the cabbie’s dashboard.
“That book. It’s yours?” Oliver asked.
The cabbie smiled. “This?” he responded, holding the paperback up. The faded cover proudly announced Our Secret History in bold bronzed letters that hovered ominously over a group of men in dark cloaks, their faces masked by shadows. Behind them, a tree of light branched up majestically toward the book’s title. “Who else’s would it be?”
“Right,” sighed Oliver. Published twenty or so years ago, Our Secret History was written by the eccentric billionaire Lord Montague Graves. It portrayed a controversial esoteric view of the entire world’s history from the dawn of man. Each chapter exposed classified documents, alternative theological texts, ancient alien theories, transcribed oral histories, and new age thinking. Such a cocktail of ideas invited ridicule from the general public. The work proved disastrous and led to near financial ruin for the publisher, White Tower Books. To find a physical, paperback copy that survived the retailers’ purge was nearly impossible, and here, this cabbie from San Diego had one on his dashboard.
“It’s not that, it’s just—” Oliver reached into his duffle bag and produced his own worn out copy. “It’s a rare book. Not many people have read it, let alone owned it.”
“I see,” said the cabbie. “How did you come across it?”
“Read it as a kid—I was into anything that bent toward the unusual or fantastic back then. Lost track of it as I grew up. Then, when my wife—” Oliver choked on his tongue. Really? She’s been gone a year! Oliver swallowed. “The book turned up when I was selling off some old things. I thumbed through it again. It inspired me to travel, actually.”
“Travel where?”
“Stonehenge, Jerusalem, Tibet—places I’ve just always wanted to go to since reading about them. There are a lot of silly ideas about history in this book, probably none of which are true, but the destinations are real.” Oliver hid his copy away. It all sounded so childish now.
“Most history is written through the lens of victory and power,” the cabbie mused. “That same lens will blur any details that surround its focus on ‘truth.’”
“I’m an accountant,” explained Oliver, surprised he still described himself by a job he hadn’t held for a year. “Things either add up or they don’t. Therein lies truth.”
“So—do things add up for you?”
Oliver grimaced. He had strictly followed the tried and true Wells Family Formula for Success during most of his life. He became an accountant like his father and his father’s father. He married a beautiful, prominent business woman at the age of twenty-five, bought a modest three-bedroom single-detached home, all of which were supposed to add up and equal “happy.” But he wasn’t happy. Happiness didn’t enter the equation until he met Audrey, the woman who would prove to be the love of his life. In a random moment of chance, she’d received his order by accident at a coffee shop. The instant their eyes met to exchange drinks, any and all math that had ruled Oliver’s world seemed to break down. A messy divorce led to a second wedding and the birth of a beautiful baby girl, Ava, followed by the eight most glorious years of Oliver’s personal life. Professionally he took a hit—his ex-wife saw to that. Even when investments went bad and money became tight, Oliver didn’t seem to care. All he needed was Audrey and Ava for the equation to balance and equal happiness.
Then in a flash he’d lost them both. A small piece of debris shot up from an explosion over Kansas, Kansas of all godforsaken places, and started a fire in the airliner’s engine. No one survived the crash. How the hell does that add up?
“It doesn’t, does it?” The cabbie flashed his knowing smile again in the rear view mirror. “That’s why you found the book again. The ideas in it inspired you to search for another truth. Your own truth.”
Oliver leaned back in his seat, now regretting the conversation. “Maybe. I don’t know. Doesn’t everyone do that?”“Many are satisfied with the truth provided to them.”
Oliver closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. Stop talking. Please, just stop.
“So did you find it? Did you find your truth?”
“I’d rather not go into it.” Why am I philosophizing with a cabbie?
“If you don’t know, then you didn’t find it, Oliver.”
The accountant’s eyes popped open. The hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention. “I don’t recall giving you my name.”
“You didn’t.” Wheels screeched as the cabbie abruptly turned the car off the freeway and exited onto a bumpy dirt road. Oliver had driven this stretch of freeway probably a hundred times, but never noticed such a road’s existence. If one hadn’t known exactly where the path lies, he or she would surely miss it.
“What the—what are you doing? Is something wrong with the car?” yelled a jostled Oliver.
The cab skidded to a halt, kicking up a cloud of dust that glowed an eerie red from the brake lights. “Relax, Oliver. Nothing is wrong with the car.”
“Why did you pull over? How do you know my name?”
The cabbie turned around to face Oliver. His smile was absent again, but a great calm remained about him despite his passenger’s nervousness. “You’re at a crossroads,” he answered.
  “What the hell are you talking about? The freeway is right over there! All you had to do was drive straight to remain on it!”
“You can return to the freeway if you want,” the cabbie hunched his shoulders. “But I’ve been sent to make you aware of another path.”
“What?” Oliver kicked open his door, threw his duffle bag onto the dirt, and frantically climbed out of the car. The cabbie followed. “Stay away from me!” Oliver stretched his arms out as if to hold the man at bay. “I said stay away!”
“Take the moment, Oliver. You’ll need a clear head to make your decision,” the cabbie replied with a nod.
Oliver surveyed his surroundings. It was probably three hundred meters to the empty freeway. There were no other cars in sight that he could flag down for help. To the opposite side was a desert brush that faded into the soft outlines of starlit foothills. For all intents and purposes, he was stranded alone with this mad cabbie.

Dave Cravens has written, edited and directed for a wide range of entertainment media since 1992, including award winning video games, TV commercials, promotional trailers and documentaries. The God Thought is his first science fiction novel. Dave lives in Southern California with his wife and three children.

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Adored. Cherished. Worshiped.
Bryce Randolph accomplished the impossible when he stormed back into my life. He repaired my shattered heart and promised to love me
forever. My dreams now include a future with the man I’ve loved since I was twelve years old. He owns
my soul, and a life without each other is not an option.
Sometimes, though, even the strongest bonds are tested.
How much am I willing to give up for the love of my life?
Ambition. Passion. Commitment.
As we chase our dreams, distance separates us, threatening to shake our
foundation. Jealousy and insecurities unravel my confidence, but Bryce’s
devotion never falters. When we’re faced with tough choices regarding our life together, I’m forced to rely on his unwavering strength.
Can we both have it all?
Then the unthinkable happens. Now, it’s my turn to fight for our happily
ever after. Are we falling apart after finding our way, or are we…

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About the author
Ahren spent her formative years living in an active volcano. There her family made collectible lava art. She studied rock collecting at the Sorbonne in France. There she met the love of her life-her pet pig Sybil. She returned to the states and started writing. She is happily married to a guy who used to live under a bridge and she met while pole-dancing. They have one amazing daughter.
Now, meet the real me. I grew up in the south and consider myself a true “Southerner”. Most of the special locations mentioned in my books are reflections of my favorite places. Living on the Florida coast, my family spends a lot time at the beach which is where I usually can be found with a book in my hand. I started writing my Surrender Series, in the spring of 2013 and have received incredible support from the Indie community. Throughout this year, I have been privileged to meet some amazing people that I am thankful to have in my life.

Visit me online:
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Click on link below to join my mailing list!
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An Indecent Invitation
by Laura Trentham
Series: Spies and Lovers, #1
Genre: Historical Romance - Regency
Release Date: August 25, 2015

Keeping her safe is difficult, keeping a proper distance from her is downright impossible.

Lady Lily Drummond understands only too well the danger of spy work. Her father, a preeminent master spy, has been missing for months, and her brother barely survived his final mission for the Crown. Lily is still determined to help find her father, no matter how hard her brother and his best friend try to keep her in the dark.

Busy trying to untangle the web of deceit surrounding the Earl of Windor’s disappearance, Crown spy Gray Masterson also has to ensure Lily Drummond, the gangly, awkward child who was his constant shadow growing up, doesn’t get herself ruined at her London debut. But the girl with scraped knees and elbows has evolved into a lush, sensual beauty surrounded by a bevy of suitors.

Realizing Lily is going to investigate on her own if he doesn’t let her join the hunt for her missing father, Gray assumes he can give Lily a few minor tasks to pacify her, but he quickly learns she is a valuable asset. Moreover, she fairly crackles with life and warmth—things he craves after his dark years in service.

Warning: This book contains spies, scandals, naughty liaisons in houses of ill repute, men who think they know everything and women who know they do not. 

Lily slyly watched Gray confront Montbatton and then execute a courtly bow to Lady Abbott. How long before her reckoning? Only a few minutes had passed. Not nearly long enough for her heart to slow. He approached—not with angry mincing steps or even hurried anxious ones, but in a casual loose-limbed saunter.
Did he know?
Gray had been lanky in his youth, but he’d always possessed an unusual agility and grace. Seemingly never feeling awkward in his body, he moved with a compelling confidence that had only grown more telling over the years. A broad, deep chest and narrow, lean hips complemented indecently muscled legs. Not that she had made a close examination, heavens no, but she could hardly miss them flexing during their dance.
Perhaps he wasn’t the tallest or the most handsome man in attendance, but there was something about him. In fact, several ladies’ heads turned when he passed them by. Not that he noticed, because his gaze pinned her like an insect on display.
Not smiling nor frowning, his face revealed not a single clue to his mood. He stopped directly in front of her, cocked one foot in front of the other and clasped his hands behind his back. A purely masculine stance that, along with his silence, set her nerves jangling.
She tucked several escaped tendrils back into pins and then opened and closed her fan a few times. Unable to tolerate another second of the increasing tension, she yielded, feeling somehow as if she’d lost the first skirmish of a war. “We meet again, Mr. Masterson. Mayhap did you learn anything interesting?”
His eyes, vibrantly green and arresting even partially shielded behind his spectacles, shimmered with an emotion she couldn’t interpret. “I learned Montbatton is indeed in pursuit, and you should expect an offer. He informed me most vehemently to pass that information on. Lady Abbott thought it highly amusing I didn’t know your name. And lastly, I discovered Lady Lily should be in the corner with her chaperone.”
“Very impressive, but did anyone reveal my name?”
“Absolutely no one.” A single eyebrow arched above the rim of his spectacles.
Her shoulders, which at some point had bunched toward her ears, relaxed, and she tapped her fan against her lips to stem a victorious smile. “And I was so looking forward to another dance. Mayhap I’ll help you find your wayward friend instead. Over here did you say?”
A dark-haired matron in a red dress occupied the corner in question. She sat upright in a chair next to a ficus and, at first glance, appeared to be serenely observing the tableau of couples on the dance floor. The only indications she was soundly asleep were her closed eyes and slightly agape mouth. Her Aunt Edie was quite possibly the most worthless chaperone in all of England, which suited Lily perfectly. She’d no desire to relinquish the relative freedom she enjoyed in the country.
“That’s certainly not your debutante,” Lily said. “Come, let’s stroll while we look.”
“God’s teeth, that’s most likely her chaperone. Sound asleep while Lily runs wild.” Gray sounded truly aghast.
“Yes, your friend might be in the company of the worst sort of rogue who inappropriately whisked her away.” A cough covered her spate of giggles.
“Indeed.” His tone turned solemn. “She’s a highly impulsive chit not used to male attention. No doubt, she’d be easily lured into an indiscretion by a charming smile or prestigious title.” He tutted. “They’d only be after her dowry, poor thing.”
She sucked in a huge breath, ready to unleash her tongue, but his next words ripped the air from her lungs.
“Would you care to take a turn in the gardens as I haven’t earned a dance?”
“What about your friend? Shouldn’t you find her? What if she waits for you?” Her words spilled out too quickly. How many times had Rafe told her to never enter the gardens with a gentleman? At least a hundred. Although it was only Gray. If any man could be trusted, it would be him. Wouldn’t it?
“I was to surprise her tonight. She doesn’t even know I’m attending. We won’t be long, just a breath of fresh air. It’s rather stuffy, isn’t it?”
“I suppose a very brief turn in the garden wouldn’t hurt. It is awfully close in here.” Lily snapped her fan open and cooled herself with frenzied flicks of her wrist. Was it the crush of people or his suggestion making her feel so heated?

I was born and raised in a small town in Northwest Tennessee. Although, I loved English and reading in high school, I was convinced an English degree equated to starvation! So, I chose the next most logical major - Chemical Engineering- and worked in a hard hat and steel toed boots for several years. Now I live in South Carolina with my husband and two children. In between school and homework and soccer practices, I love to get lost in another world, whether its Regency England or small town Alabama.

Books One and Two of my Falcon Football Series are available from St. Martin’s Press (Slow and Steady Rush; Caught Up in the Touch). Book Three, Melting Into You, is available for preorder.

Book Two of my Spies and Lovers Series, A Brazen Bargain, will release January 2016.

Tuesday, 1 September 2015

Joanne Sexton - American Woman - PROMO Blitz/giveaway

Contemporary G/G Romance
Date Published: June 17, 2015

Rock chicks are more complicated than they look, especially when one is becoming her destiny, the other following a classical career, and the third wheel the steaming hot lead singer of the new big thing. Scarred hearts bleed pain when the pulse of love blurs to jealousy and rage. Between family, ex-lovers, and their own clashing issues, this complicated love triangle becomes a tangled mess, leaving the shy and the reckless reeling. The future is bleak, they're isolated and misunderstood, and pride ruins passion.
Drunken mistakes haunt Molly and Justine; their spiral into misery riveting. Strumming emotions more than guitar strings, the dynamic Justine, Tessa, and Molly, will keep you on tenterhooks of suspense in this lady-on-lady romance.


Darkness and light tango across the ceiling when wind strip searches trees, blocking the streetlight's glow when the bluster sways branches. The eerie shapes skittering overhead would be frightening if I was a child, or if I allowed my imagination to take hold.
Instead, lying in the darkness, they are soothing somehow. I shiver as the howling outside mimics the shadows stretching in front of me.
The snoring besides me escalates, and I sigh. I love Alex, in my own way. As much as I can love him. It isn’t his fault our relationship is mundane and our sex life so routine. It took both of us to destroy the foundation of our life together. He can't read minds.

Joanne Sexton is an Australian romance writer and mother of two. She had always dreamed of writing novels and has been an avid reader most of her life. In between being a mum and writing, she runs a small bookkeeping business. She has recently become a qualified florist.
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Monday, 31 August 2015

TOUCHED TO THE SOUL Book Blitz‏/giveaway

Touched to the Soul
by Elsa Winckler
Series: Touched, #2
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: August 6, 2015

A passion that runs soul deep... 

Zoe Sutherland can't stand the pushy, arrogant architect Dale Cavallo. He was just too damn sure of himself, too handsome, too…everything. Maneuvered into working as the interior decorator on his latest project, a glamorous new hotel, Zoe can't keep her mind on the job. And worse, the strange man won't give her access to the hotel's floor plans. How is she supposed to finish the design when she doesn't have the plans? And when the obnoxious man distracts her with every smoldering look, every touch...

Dale has one goal: get rid of the pesky interior designer. Since he's been forced into close proximity with the beautiful Zoe, everything's gone downhill. And to make matters worse, she's only out to further her own career—and he's not about to give her the hotel's plans so she can steal his ideas. He needs to get her out of his system, and sleeping with her seems like the best way to do that. When it comes to women, he's found the best way to handle them is to love 'em and leave 'em. But something strange is happening...because after a night of loving Zoe, he's finding it harder than ever to leave…

Desperately she tried to get her sluggish brain cells to work, tried to rationalize what she was feeling. If she thought about it, her reaction was normal. She was young and unattached; he was a sought-after, rich tycoon—what girl wouldn’t swoon a little bit? And anyway, this was probably the way he always danced with any woman. She’d read enough about him to know he seldom had the same girl on his arm. So she knew this was just for tonight.

Slowly she became aware that the music was farther away, that they’d moved on to the wide terrace overlooking the sea. He steered her farther away around a pillar. And for the first time, she looked up at him.

His eyes were dark with an expression she’d never seen before. What was it? Desire? But that was impossible; it had been obvious from the start that he could hardly stand the sight of her. Surely he wasn’t interested in her in that way, was he?

“Zoe, this is exactly the reason why I’ve stayed away from you, why I haven’t danced with you tonight. This is so not what I want, but I can’t seem to help myself around you…”

Before she could ask what he was talking about, he kissed her.

His lips were warm and demanding, and with a sigh she surrendered. It never even occurred to her to deny him this. To deny herself this pleasure. Because that’s what it was. Pure, unadulterated pleasure.

With a shaky exhale, she pulled him closer and thrust her fingers into his hair. He groaned while his hands restlessly explored her body. Don’t stop, please don’t stop, a voice begged inside her head. For a split second she worried that she’d said the words out loud, but quickly remembered her mouth was otherwise engaged. As far as she was concerned, it could stay that way forever.

Inspired by the writing of Jane Austen, Elizabeth Gaskell, Henry James, and the Brontë sisters, Elsa Winckler likes her heroines beautiful, feisty, independent and headstrong. She married her college boyfriend who, after 40 years, still makes her weak in the knees. They have 3 interesting children, 3 beautiful grandsons and live in the picturesque little seaside village of Betty's Bay, South Africa.