Wednesday, October 26, 2016

Where the Sun Hides by Bethany-Kris & London Miller Blitz and #Giveaway

Where the Sun Hides
Bethany-Kris & London Miller
(Seasons of Betrayal #1)
Publication date: May 31st 2016
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense
In places where the sun can hide, the darkest betrayals are made.
Violet Gallucci and Kazimir Markovic have grown up in the same city, but on opposite sides of the game they call life—Violet, an Italian principessa della mafia, and Kaz, a Russian Bratva heir. Lines have been drawn, and they know not to cross them.
Their paths crossed once, a long time ago, but when they meet again, the territory and rules set out by their families that have kept them separated seem to bleed away.
She’s more than her last name …
He’s more than a Russian …
But secrets from the past—and the people determined to keep them hidden—have other plans for Violet and Kaz.
Rival families.
One city.
Star-crossed lovers.
They should be enemies.
It could mean war.
This is just the beginning …
From authors Bethany-Kris (The Chicago War) and London Miller (Volkov Bratva) comes a thrilling, sexy new series—Seasons of Betrayal. Where the Russians and Italians clash in culture, mafia … and love.
On sale for 99c for a limited time only!
“What did she take?”
Violet clenched her teeth. “I don’t know. That’s why we were leaving.”
“Does she need a hospital?”
“She needs a bed and water,” Nicole interjected.
“You need stitches,” he said, glancing down at Nicole’s arm. “You’re bleeding all over my couch.”
Nicole just glared.
Violet held back her grin, knowing it wasn’t the time.
“We’re really sorry,” Violet said, hoping to appease to the guy so he would let them go without any more trouble. “We just wanted a good time—this club is supposed to be the hottest thing on Coney right now, and someone must have spiked our friend’s drink. We don’t want problems. We really don’t want the cops involved, so if that’s what you’re worried about, don’t be.”
The man’s lips drew into a thin, grim line as he looked the girls over. “I will make sure you all get home safe and sound.”
Violet didn’t like that idea at all. She could still hear her father in the back of her head, repeating his warnings. Keep out of Coney Island, don’t go too deep into Brooklyn, and stay the hell away from Russians.
It was more likely that whoever this guy was didn’t have anything to do with the kinds of Russians her father demanded she stay away from, but Violet knew where the lines were drawn with Alberto Gallucci. She often tested them, occasionally even jumping over them when her father wasn’t looking.
Russians were not one of them.
“We can take a cab,” Violet said. “We took one here.”
The man didn’t look all too impressed with that idea. He opened his mouth to speak, but the office door opened from behind Violet, stopping whatever he was going to say.
“Everything good, brat?
Violet turned fast on her heel at the new voice.
And froze.
He was tall—over six feet—and built like he ran a ten-K every day. The black suit he wore hugged his frame, but the jacket was left unbuttoned, showcasing a white silk dress shirt that was pulled taut across his chest.
The man was cut.
Violet swallowed hard and met the man’s stare.
Gray eyes, like the other man’s but more intense, looked her up and down with a slow, predatory fashion. His face was framed by a strong jaw dotted with a couple days’ worth of scruff and sharp cheekbones. His lips, full enough to draw in her attention, curled up at the edges into a grin of sorts.
She thought it looked more like a smirk.
He raised a hand and ran it through his short, dark hair that was tapered at the sides but a little longer down the middle.
But it wasn’t so much the action that caught her attention, but the black ink marked on his hand. An upturned spider that looked to be crawling up under the sleeve of his suit jacket rested upon a web.
Her gaze cut back to his when he dropped his hand back to his side.
He looked familiar. She was sure that she should know him, but in her semi-drunken state, she was coming up with nothing.
The man’s smirk quickly faded into a mask of cool, calm nothingness. He looked past her to the man behind her and said one word that chilled her entirely.

Author Bio:
Bethany-Kris is a Canadian author, lover of much, and mother to three young sons, one cat, and two dogs. A small town in Eastern Canada where she was born and raised is where she has always called home. With her boys under her feet, snuggling cat, barking dogs, and a hubby calling over his shoulder, she is nearly always writing something ... when she can find the time.
To keep up-to-date with new releases from Bethany-Kris, sign up to her New Release Newsletter here:
With a degree in Creative Writing, London Miller has turned pen to paper, creating riveting fictional worlds where the bad guys are sometimes the good guys. Her debut novel, In the Beginning, is the first in the Volkov Bratva Series.
She currently resides in southern Georgia where she drinks far too much coffee, and spends her nights writing.
To learn more about London Miller and her novels, please visit her through her social media.


20$ Amazon gift card 
Signed paperback of Where the Sun Hides
Ends Nov 3, 2016


Tuesday, October 25, 2016

Archangel's Heart by Nalini Singh (Guild Hunter #9)

Archangel's Heart

My Rating:
Written by: Nalini Singh
Series: A Guild Hunter Novel
Sequence in Series: Book 9
Mass Market Paperback: 400 pages
Publisher: Berkley
Publication Date: November 1, 2016
ISBN-10: 0451488008
ISBN-13: 978-0451488008
Genre: Urban Fantasy

New York Times bestselling author Nalini Singh takes us into a dangerous and exhilarating world where a deadly, beautiful archangel and his once-mortal consort are caught in a fury of twisted darkness…

One of the most vicious archangels in the world has disappeared. No one knows if Lijuan is dead or has chosen to Sleep the long sleep of an immortal. But with her lands falling into chaos under a rising tide of vampiric bloodlust, a mysterious and ancient order of angels known as the Luminata calls the entire Cadre together to discuss the fate of her territory.

Accompanying her archangelic lover Raphael to the Luminata compound, guild hunter-turned-angel Elena senses that all is not as it seems. Secrets echo from within the stone walls of the compound, and the deeper Elena goes, the uglier the darkness. But neither Raphael nor Elena is ready for the brutal truths hidden within—truths that will change everything Elena thinks she knows about who she is…

Nothing will ever be the same again.

Archangel's Heart (Guild Hunter, #9)Archangel's Heart by Nalini Singh

Once again, Nalini Singh, pens an absolutely amazing tale in the Guild Hunter series.

The world is waiting, holding its breath, for the next shoe to fall. Lijuan was defeated by Elena and Raphael but they are not presuming her dead. The world is pounded by magically powered storms (Cascades) and each time one hits the angels caught in its wake come away with transformed powers. The archangel’s have stuck to their territories and haven’t met since Lijuan’s fall. There are also reports of blood lust plaguing Lijuan’s territory, with vampires running unchecked and killing throughout her land. To say tensions are strung tighter than a bow string would be an understatement. But that is all about to change…

A summons is sent demanding all the archangels (The Cadre) to a conclave. You might wonder who can order archangel’s and that would be the Luminata. The Luminata is a group of angels that have dedicated their lives to finding peace and learning, in a somewhat religious monastery type life style. The Luminata are isolated, residing in Morocco; you thought tension where high with the archangels, you should see what happens when you put them all in the same room.

Of course, Elena and Raphael must attend and they decide to bring “Sparkle” with them.

Elena is excited to return to the home of her heritage, Morocco. She is also excited to see some of her friends/allies while reluctant to run in to enemies of the past. The big question is whether Lijuan will show. Without showing, Lijuan will forfeit her territory.

Besides all the issues facing the world and the power structure of the archangels, there is something not right with the Luminata and somehow it is connected to Elena’s heritage. This is where we get to see Elena do what she does best…HUNT.

I love the dynamics, the world building and the imagination that has been poured into the Guild Hunter series. Archangel’s Heart does not disappoint, it gives us everything a fan of this series has come to love and will tantalize anyone who loves a marvelous urban fantasy...tied into a romance that will thrive the ages.

I received this ARC copy of Archangel's Heart from Berkley Publishing Group and have volunteered to write a honest review. This book is set for publication November 1, 2016.

Stage Left by Ali Parker Blitz and #Giveaway

Stage Left
Ali Parker
(Bright Lights Billionaire #1)
Publication date: March 20th 2016
Genres: Adult, Romance
From Best Selling Author, Ali Parker comes a new Billionaire Series filled with sexiness, humor and intense attraction…
Ethan Lewis has been in the bright lights for as long as he can remember. He’s just turned the cusp of celebrating his twenty-fourth birthday, and yet he feels more like eighty. Living the life of a celebrity isn’t all it is chalked up to be, and dealing with the unruly number of women who are more interested in his billions than who he is as a person is getting old. He has resigned himself to giving up on love and focusing on the only thing that truly gives back – his career.
Riley Phillips has always dreamed of being on a big stage with the warmth of the spotlight baring down on her, but she just couldn’t seem to catch the right agent’s attention. After giving a quick commencement speech as Valedictorian of her graduating class at Billmore High, she’s offered something she can’t refuse… The chance to work in Hollywood. It’s not all it’s chalked up to be, but she works hard and finally gets her big break four years down the line. There is a new movie that her agent wants her to audition for, and her co-star? The dreamy Ethan Lewis.
She scores the part, but soon regrets it due to his callous, overbearing persona. He’s nothing like the public touts, and she for one isn’t impressed.
Funny enough, he is – immensely.
Grab yours today for FREE!
Ali Parker talks about being an indie author and loving it!
I think from a young age I’ve always been independent, always looking for a way to forge a new path and climb a steep hill and do it mainly on my own. I think like most Indies, I started by trying the traditional route and after loads of rejection, it was just easier to forget it. A few friends of mine are making it big in the indie world and have reluctantly pulled me into it as well. I will tell you that it’s the best decision I’ve ever made.
I’m not a superstar, but a story teller – which is all I ever wanted to be. I set my schedule, write what I want, love on you guys by giving away whatever the hell I want to and life FEELS right/good.
Let me tell you why else I love being Indie.
1. No one will ever love my book as much as me. It’s my creation and having the freedom to choose what it looks like and where the plot goes is all mine to decide. I don’t have someone standing over my shoulder making it “better” by their definition of “better.”
2. I can spend as little or as much time, energy and money as I want. Obviously the more I put into it, the more I’m going to get out of it, but that’s with anything in life. The cool part is that if I’m a good editor or if I can design my own cover, then those are costs to be saved and skills to be used.
3. I belong. In a world of independent authors I find myself fitting in just perfectly. We all work hard and dream big and the encouragement is beyond belief. I don’t have to write a certain genre or stick to a certain structure in the plot. I simply write, promote and support and honestly feel great about myself at the end of the day.
Being an Indie author, to me, doesn’t really have anything to do with being Independent though. It’s a statement that says I’m capable of making every step along this book writing/producing platform to take a dream from start to finish. The truth of what Indie authors are doing is showing the world that there still exists hope. Hope to dream big and work hard to make that dream a reality.
That’s why I love being Indie!

Author Bio:
Ali Parker is a full-time contemporary romance writer who left a life in Corporate America to try out living a dream. She loves coffee, watching a great movie and hanging out with her hubs. By hanging out, she means making out. Hanging out is for those little creepy elves at Christmas. No tight green stockings for her.
Thanks for picking up a book!!
Ali also writes Sci-Fi Romance under Liza Probz -, and Western Romance under Jessica Mills -


Signed Copy of Stage Left
3 sets of ebooks for the Bright Lights Billionaire complete series (4 books)
$10 Amazon Gift Card


Monday, October 24, 2016

The Reaping by Shirley Anne Edwards Blitz and #Giveaway

The Reaping
Shirley Anne Edwards
Publication date: October 23rd 2016
Genres: Horror, Young Adult
The quaint village where Adela Jane lives is surrounded by fear. At night, a centuries old green mist covers the land and controls the animals within the forest. Lately, Adela feels someone or something is following her every move. Unbeknownst to her, the mist waits for the perfect moment to make her his. Adela feels trapped by her small town life and burdened by her love she keeps hidden for her best friend’s older brother, Nathan Alexander. But all that changes on her eighteenth birthday when Nathan admits his love and desire to marry her. Adela’s joy is cut short when the mist kidnaps her and takes her to his secret underground lair. Her nightmare has only just begun when the mist makes Adela his bride.
What of the Jabberwocky fell in love with Alice from Lewis Caroll’s Through the Looking Glass? That’s the question tackled in The Reaping. A Young Adult with an atmospheric Gothic feel, and elements from such classic novels, as Gaston Leroux’s Phantom of the Opera and John Fowles’ The Collector.
I lay curled in a ball on the side of the pool as I woke from an apparent slumber. After taking some deep breaths and pushing my hair away from my face, I stood, cringing when my right calf cramped along with my stiff neck and arms. Limping over to a chair, I sat, doubled over, wishing the pain to stop. The clock on the wall pointed to the number six. Three hours had passed?
The urge to use the privy became very important. I prowled the large room, searching for such a place. But I couldn’t locate one and limped back up the stairs to the bedroom, hoping to find one there.
I found an empty room in a corner next to the crate full of beautiful clothes. Inside, a porcelain bucket lay in the corner. After I finished, I then sat on the bed. More questions ran through my head.
Who would empty the bowl of waste and why was the table set with all that food? Where did all these things come from?
I laid my head on my knees while despair and anguish coursed through my entire body. Tears fell from my eyes and landed on my lips and chin.
If only Nathan Alexander was here to hold me and tell me everything would be all right.
But he wasn’t here, and it was my fault. Why didn’t I let him come with me to close my house?
My eyes closed as I remember our kisses near the lake and how wonderful it felt to be in his arms, where his whispered words of love and promises made me feel safe and protected….
The wind let out a muffled howl, and the slight dank smell rising from the stone floor met my nose. Goose bumps rose on my arms as I stood and paced the room. The place near the bed where I had been sick had dried, but it still smelled awful. Considering my current mood, it would remain a soiled stain.
Stomping down the stairs, I crumpled in a chair. Loneliness and fright crept up until I wanted to hide in a corner and rock and cry. My nose dripped, and tears trickled down my cheeks. Then something very strange happened. The owl clock let out a ding, and the howling wind stopped.
From one of the other tunnels leading to the unknown, a green haze poured out and made its way down the cavern stairs. Panicked, I jumped out of the chair and rushed back up the stairs to the bedroom. This stream of murk followed behind as I dashed to the crate to hide behind it.
The mist slinked across the room and stopped in the center, drifting back and forth, not coming any closer to where I stood. It had transformed into a strange, whirling circle. But it didn’t flood the entire room, remaining in that shaky sphere that turned toward the unmade bed and then back to me.
Trembling, I held back a whimper when the mist floated over the bed and toward me. Backing up toward the crate, I closed my eyes and prayed as a cold burst of air met my skin.
A voice spoke in my head.
“Why do you hide?”
My eyes opened, and I hit the wall. The mist floated right near my face as if to study me. The voice spoke again. This time it sounded deeper and hushed.
“Do not be afraid. Why are you frightened?”
It finally dawned on me—the strange and hollow-sounding voice came from the mist itself.
The mist turned away and hovered near the corner where the privy bowl sat. While its attention was diverted, I ran out and down the stairs to hide in one of the dark caverns. Nearing the two stone dog statues, the mist blocked my path. With a startled yelp, I backed away toward the long table. It followed, and I darted around until the table separated us. Again, it molded itself into a ghostlier form and watched me.
One of its phantom limbs reached out and picked up the pitcher from the table. It floated in the air as the mist poured red liquid in a clear wine glass. It then grabbed a few slices of bread and fruit and placed them on a plate. I watched, captivated, uncertain what it would do next. There was no other place to run except back up the stairs or through the waterfall.
“Sit,” it said in a gentle whisper in my mind.
I shook my head.
It stared at me with those nonexistent eyes and pulled out a chair, letting the wood scrape on the rock floor.
“Sit here.” Its deadly tone frightened me, and I backed away.
The mist rocked back and forth for several seconds.
“You will sit. If not….” The unspoken words tore through me as the mist glided over. Repulsed by the thought of it touching any part of my body, I scurried to a chair and sat down.
It backed away, but not before it drifted next to my head and lifted a piece of my tangled hair. I clenched my fists in my lap and waited for it to release it. A moan echoed in my head, and my hair fell down my back. It then pulled out a chair and floated over it.
The cramp in my leg came back, and I winced, trying to rub the ache away. But I feared making any quick movements.
“Are you in pain?” it asked in a concerned voice.
I stared ahead, refusing to respond.
It waited a few beats for an answer and let out a sigh when I didn’t. The mist settled in the chair, which should have been funny, but, under the present circumstances, I found no humor in it. It pushed the plate full of food toward me, including the glass. “Eat.”
I viewed the plate and then back at the mist.
“Um. I….” I had no idea what to say.
The mist wavered, unable to stay still. Even though it didn’t have eyes, it stared at me. I shifted in my seat, clasping my hands tightly on my lap.
It exhaled, picking up a piece of dark-brown bread and holding it up in the air. It moved the bread in a circle.
“You will eat, or I will make you,” it said in a blunt, do-not-even-think-of-disobeying-me type of voice.
I had run out of options. Instead of taking the piece of bread it offered, I picked up a few grapes, some cubes of cheese, and chewed small morsels slowly, blinking away tears.
The mist remained silent. My mouth trembled as I continued chewing. After I swallowed, my confidence grew, but before I could say a word, it moved behind my chair and off to the side. A squeal left my mouth when music filled the room. I dropped whatever was in my hands and placed them over my mouth and closed my eyes, sitting motionless until my heartbeat returned to normal.
Its presence hovered near. Hearing the clatter of a dish, I opened my eyes to see my plate gone. My untouched glass remained.
Sick of being ordered around, I slapped the arm of the chair.
“Eat, drink. What does it matter to you, or whatever you are, whether I eat or drink? What right do you have to bring me here? I want to go home!” I fumed, not caring if the mist became enraged.
“Can’t,” it said in a harsh whisper.
“Why?” I longed to pour my glass full of liquid over this wretched thing causing me such anguish.
The mist turned toward me. “Because I love you.”

Author Bio:
Shirley Anne Edwards is a Northeast girl who first found her love for books when she read Nancy Drew’s The Secret of the Old Clock Tower at thirteen. Shirley found her love for writing at a very young age, and since then has let her imagination run wild by creating quirky characters and vast worlds in her head.
Shirley lives in New Jersey and works in the entertainment industry in New York City.
In the immortal words of Mark Twain: “Life is short, Break the Rules. Forgive quickly, Kiss SLOWLY. Love truly. Laugh uncontrollably and never regret ANYTHING That makes you smile.”

A 3 month subscription to Birchbox at $30 + a print copy of The Reaping
ends Nov. 3, 2016