Friday, September 30, 2016

Win Three Books: His Australian Heiress by Margaret Way


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The authors will be awarding digital copies of all books on tour to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

In this passionate saga set in present-day Australia, the passing of a wealthy patriarch leaves one young woman with a chance to change her life—if it doesn’t bring her world crashing down first…

After losing her parents in a tragic accident, young Charlotte was taken in by her grandfather, Sir Reginald Mansfield. Despite his tyrannical tendencies, he cherished her above all—a fact made clear by his surprising bequest. In her early twenties, she intends to follow in his illustrious footsteps in the field of law. And now she is the beneficiary not only of his vast financial assets, but of Clouds—the stunning sandstone house in New South Wales with a breathtaking view of the Blue Mountains and a bountiful garden of fragrant flowers. Unfortunately, not everyone is pleased for her.

Charlotte’s grasping aunt and uncle, as well as her controlling, entitled cousin cannot hide their fury. As rivalries simmer and naked greed roils the socially prominent clan, only Brendon Macmillan, Charlotte’s longtime friend, seems genuinely happy for her—despite the bitter, scandalous history between their families. Charlotte’s dream is to use the funds to open a shelter for abused women, and Brendon intends to support and protect her. But often, more money means more betrayals, secrets, and lies—and as Charlotte tries to determine who she can trust, she may be a woman in danger herself…

Enjoy an Excerpt:

The distinguished principal of Asherton School for Girls, Dr. Vivienne Granger herself, came to the door of the Great Hall to deliver an urgent message to one of her students. For the Head to do such a thing was unheard of. There were lesser mortals to whom she could delegate such tasks, but this was a very serious matter. It needed discretion from the very top, and no one topped the benevolent, on occasion fearsome, Dr. Vivienne Granger.

A rehearsal of The Merchant of Venice was in progress. Charlotte Mansfield, Head Girl, handpicked by Dr. Granger on merit, not on her illustrious name, was halfway into Portia’s famous speech, “The quality of mercy is not strained.” Charlotte had reached, “Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings . . . ,” making a brilliant job of it according to the college’s speech and drama teacher, Dr. Phillipa Redding, when Dr. Granger lifted a long, black-clad arm and began waggling imperious fingers in Charlotte’s direction. It was a clear indication Charlotte was to break off and join her.

Just wait for what’s coming.

The message popped instantly into Charlotte’s head. It came from someone, maybe God, but she had no clear belief that was so. She had given up wondering where her sixth sense came from. Perhaps everyone was born with such a sense but made the decision not to cultivate it because it made them nervous. And rightly so. It was scary. The message she received was crystal clear and unequivocal.

Your grandfather is dead.

She felt the flow of blood in her veins turn to ice.

About the Author:
USA Today bestselling author Margaret Way has written more than 130 books, many of them International Bestsellers. She has been published in 114 countries and 34 languages. Her novels are set in her beloved Australia, where she was born and lives to this day. Her stories always contain the beauty and rugged nature of the rural and Outback Australia, as well as the rainforests and coral reefs of Northern Queensland.

Kensington Books


Buy the book at Amazon, iBooks, Google, Kobo, or Barnes and Noble.

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Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Win 2 Books: Travis Justice by Colleen Shannon and Wilde One by Jannine Gallant


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The authors will be awarding digital copies of both books on tour to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Ranger bred, Ranger bound…

Being a Texas Ranger is Zach Travis’s destiny. But war-weary Zach didn’t come home to Texas to take on his father’s legacy, only to heal his emotional scars…until his family’s compound is invaded by an enemy as brazen as she is beautiful. Not only does Hana Nakatomi seem willing to risk everything for the sake of her own birthright, she could be tied to the organized crime syndicate responsible for the murder of a Ranger. Yet, from the first moment Zach has the alluring thief in his grasp, he can’t deny the pulsing attraction between them….

It’s Zach’s duty to bring Hana in for questioning. But he has his own ideas about how to capitalize on her street smarts and martial arts skills. Even as sparks fly during their pursuit of a common enemy, Zach is never sure if Hana is his ally—or his worst nightmare. One thing’s for certain: she’s the first woman to breach the walls of his battered heart….

The Wilde brothers have one thing in common—a thirst for adventure. But Griff Wilde is about to be taken on the ride of his life . . .

When Griff Wilde receives a letter from a dead man sending him on a race to find a mysterious treasure, he’s not worried about the competition. After all, salvaging sunken treasure is what he was born to do. But the riddles leading to the clues are a little trickier than he anticipated . . .

Ainslee Fontaine is ready for a change. A cross-country scavenger hunt sounds like a piece of cake after teaching in New York City. How hard could it be? For starters, travelling alone seems to have its hidden dangers, like real-life treasure hunters who ignite her deepest passions. But there’s still a hidden prize to find—unless someone stops them by any means necessary . . .

Enjoy an excerpt from Travis Justice:

Hana blinked at the sudden wash of light and for a second, the tall, muscular figure towering over her was a blur. She quit tugging, trying to get away, hoping the grip on her hair would loosen, but instead the man facing her wrapped his hand around her long hair and tugged her toward him.

“Who the hell are you and what do you want?” the man growled.

Hana was mute, staring up. She knew who this was: the reluctant scion of the family, Zachary William Barrett Travis the gazillionth or whatever it was. She’d seen his picture in her research. He’d upset his entire family by wandering all over the world, then joining the Army Rangers for eight years, then wandering again. He’d refused to take up his family responsibilities, reportedly to the extreme frustration of his father, who, according to the maid who’d given her firsthand knowledge of the family, wanted Zach to join the Texas Rangers.

She’d made a mental note of how handsome he was the first time she Googled his image, but a static photo couldn’t do his vitality justice. His hair was tousled from the nightmare she’d seen him thrashing in as she slipped past his bed. His chiseled features, with that perfect cleft chin that held true generation through generation in the Travis family, reminded her a bit of Brad Pitt in the movie Troy, one of her favorites with its warrior ethos and battles to the death . . .

Hana kept her black gaze steady on his upper half, but in her peripheral vision she noted one of his snaps had slipped open.

“Start talking or I’m calling the police.” He pulled her a bit closer as his gaze scanned the study, looking for open cases or signs of theft, she knew.

About the Authors:

Colleen Shannon grew up in West Texas where the skies are as limitless as the tales told by its many colorful residents. Surrounded by oil men, lawyers and drillers in a community that has produced two presidents and many national leaders and businessmen, Colleen grew up reading and writing stories of every kind. After college when she married and was expecting her first child, she used a scrap computer to write her first romance. She sold it herself in less than a year, and at the age of 26 began a new career and never looked back. The strength of her first book led to her nomination by Romantic Times as Best New Historical Author. She went on to win or be nominated for many other awards, and her fifteen single title releases have appeared on numerous bestseller lists. She has well over a million books in print. Her newest series, focused on the modern Texas Rangers, is from Kensington. Colleen’s ancestor, a Texas Ranger, was one of the first people buried in Brown County cemetery, Texas. Another one of her ancestors was a signatory to the Texas Declaration of Independence.

Website ~ Twitter ~ Facebook


Jannine Gallant has taken this advice to heart, creating characters from small towns and plots that unfold in the great outdoors. She grew up in a tiny Northern California town and currently lives in beautiful Lake Tahoe with her husband and two daughters. When she isn’t busy writing or being a full time mom, Jannine hikes or snowshoes in the woods around her home. Whether she’s writing contemporary, historical or romantic suspense, Jannine brings the beauty of nature to her stories.

Website ~ Twitter ~ Facebook


Buy TRAVIS JUSTICE at Amazon, iBooks, Google, Kobo, or Barnes and Noble.

Buy WILDE ONE at Amazon, iBooks, Google, Kobo, or Barnes and Noble.

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Friday, September 23, 2016

A Writer's View: Cristiane Serruya


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Cristiane Serruya will be awarding a $10 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Inside out my writing space


Hello Judy, and thanks for hosting me. I’m so happy to be here with you and your readers today.

So, some writers have offices that overlook a garden, a lawn, or a peaceful stand of trees. I live very close to Copacabana beach—yes, that would be in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil—and…I would have loved if my home-office faced the beach.

Unfortunately, not even from my living room windows I can see it. There is nothing but buildings outside, and the living-room gray-and-white striped curtains are usually closed. To make things worse, I have no windows on my home-office. Yet, that might be the best because said view could be a little—or rather, a lot—distracting. The monotonous strips of the curtains keep my mind off the real-world and in my written-world, and my window-lacking home-office walls prevent my eyes from straying away from my computer screen.

Now that you are all pitying me, let’s take a walk though my writing space. There is what you can see: bookshelves filled with books—duh!—and other shelves containing old notebooks and Moleskins from TRUST Series and those not-so-old from Love Painted in Red, all labeled and stacked alongside the brand-new editions of eight TRUST Series installments, the huge Love Painted in Red stand-alone, and the ghostly-thin The Modern Man: A philosophical divagation on the evil banality of the daily acts paperbacks. A tall glass and a jar of homemade ice-tea, which is cold-sweating over a white-linen covered tray, are sitting in a corner by the four-colored printed ARC of my still unpublished first kid’s story, Prince Peter and The Kingdom of Perfection, and one of my reading-glasses.

Fat files crammed with newspaper articles and fashion magazines pages are witnesses to the creation of Sophia, Ethan, and Alistair; Laetitia and Tavish; Lady Cholé and Baron Beardley; Prince Peter and his friends; and all those who haven’t been born yet but are already demanding to have their stories told.

From the Baroness’s Diary: The erotic escapades of Baron Beardley’s wife, The Diaries #1 first draft is still gathering dust while yellow stick-up notes on From the Baroness’s Diary, vol. 2, The Diaries #2 compete with random annotations for From the Baron’s Diary: Confessions of a peer of the English Realm, The Diaries #3.

So you see, it is an organized space—What? Messy? Erm…OK. It’s actually my sacred coherent untouchable mess. My home-office is where I plan, write, and edit my books, where I create my book-best-friends—ah, and the book-boyfriends—and where the characters take control of their lives—or should I say, mine—twist my plot-planning, and then decide who loves, lives, and dies.

It is my world.

It’s where I dream.

It’s my dream world.

Thank you for the opportunity to share my thoughts here and helping me promote my work. Last, I want to share some good news: All my ebooks are on KindleUnlimited, so visit Cristiane Serruya's Amazon Page and read them all for free!

Thank you for the opportunity to share my thoughts here and helping me promote my work. Last, I want to share some good news: All my ebooks are on KindleUnlimited, so visit Cristiane Serruya's Amazon Page and read them all for free!

I have a website and a blog: Cristiane Serruya Website and I love to connect with readers, so feel free to stalk me online: Cristiane Serruya on Goodreads, Cristiane Serruya Facebook Fan page, @CrisSerruya on Twitter, CristianeSerruya on Instagram, CrisSerruya on Pinterest,

Those who want to receive my very, very sporadic emails about new releases and promotions can sign-up here: Cristiane Serruya Website, and to be part of my Street Team, here: Cris's Street Team

Thanks again, Judy!
Tavish MacCraig, thirty-three-year-old Highlander, forsook his medical and military career, after being a POW for 6 months in Afghanistan, to run his family’s internationally renowned art gallery in London, The Blue Dot. Despite being surrounded by wealth and beauty, Tavish’s days are bleak, his nights, living nightmares, and his heart, an empty shell. But when he meets Irish painter Laetitia Galen, a powerful and sizzling attraction ignites between them.

Laetitia, who fled hell on earth when she was sixteen, now works as a well-paid housekeeper in a forsaken country manor in Warwickshire and sells her paintings in an obscure gallery. To preserve her new life and recently found peace, she resists Tavish and The Blue Dot's fantastic offer of an exclusive contract.

Laetitia becomes Tavish’s obsession; Tavish, Laetitia’s unattainable dream.

Meanwhile, a man with a burning grudge plots his long-awaited revenge, which could destroy them all over again.
Enjoy an excerpt:

Ireland

“We’ve been doing everything we can,” the private investigator said in defense of himself. He looked pointedly at Geoffrey Callaghan, hoping for some support.

“I’ll double the reward if you find her in the next three months,” said a husky male voice. “Put more men on her. Do whatever is necessary. I’ll pay the extra cost.”

The PI nodded once and quickly made his exit, not wanting to hear the or else, which was implicit in the order. He had never been inside that room. It was the first time in years that he had to deal with a person other than Geoffrey, who was scary enough.

“They will find her,” Geoffrey said.

“If I were a suspicious man, I would wonder why you didn’t have more men searching for her.” Bluish-white smoke rose from the corner, which would be completely dark if not for an orange glow. “Or why you weren’t more careful that night.”

“You were the one who chose her.” A faint smile touched Geoffrey’s wrinkled, thin lips. “I told you she was a freak.”

He had no answer to that. “GO! Leave me alone.”

“That’s exactly what you asked of me years ago. Look what happened.” Geoffrey smirked.

“Leave me alone.” He grabbed the nearest object—a Baccarat ashtray—and flung it at Geoffrey’s head, who despite his old age, ducked, avoiding being hit by the crystal but not by being showered with butts and ashes from the homemade cigar.

“Don’t do that again, my son.” He shook his bald head at the once handsome man sitting in the dark. “Don’t forget who gives the orders here.”

“Do I ever?” A fury raced through the man’s blood. There had been a time when many things could tame his unruly desires. Not anymore. He had become dependent on the old man in front of him.

“I will go.” Geoffrey smirked. “But you need to relax. I’ll send a cup of Yagé and a devotee for you to fuck.”

The man stayed silent for a moment. “Send the Yagé and the devotee.”

“A wise decision. Be at peace,” Geoffrey said before he closed the door behind him.

The orange light glowed brighter as he dragged deeper. He imagined he could see her face and body take shape in the smoke as he exhaled.

She had become the reason he arose every day, breathed, and endured pain. She had become his obsession.

He would find her. Touch her as she had touched him. Make her scream as he had.

Until he tired.

Until she begged.

Then, only then, he would kill her.

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