#NewRelease #99cents #LimitedTime for the #Fairytale #Retellings "Dawn to Dark #Anthology" @GiveMeBooksPR and @vixenpublishing.

Title: Dawn to Dark Anthology
Authors: Various
Publisher: Vixen Publishing
Genre: Fairytale Retellings
Release Date: March 30, 2019

Blurb
Vixen Publishing Presents: "Dawn to Dark"

I'm sure you've heard the tales, we all have, but you’ve never heard them quite like this…

Seven authors bring your seven nail-biting stories. From a dark and twisted Rapunzel to a modern retelling of Cinderella, these authors will have you enthralled and howling for more.

Halston James retells Beauty and the Beast with a twist. “Out of the Woods” has a touch of urban fantasy and a healthy dose of paranormal romance that’ll have you turning the pages, ravenous for more.


Sonya Jesus will capture you with her dark contemporary retelling of the Little Mermaid in "Part of His World." Follow Ari as she defies her father’s strict rules to be part of Derrick’s life.


Suzan Lee has re-written a Grimm brothers classic, Snow White and Rose Red in her young adult, contemporary "Witching Woods." With magic and malevolence strolling hand in hand, you'll be left guessing right until the end.


Kelsie Rae is best known for her sweet contemporary romances, and her version of Aladdin is no different. “The Hack”is a modern twist on a Disney favorite. One girl who prays for freedom. One man who craves a different life. One hacker with the power to change their stars. Three wishes. No turning back.


Take a step on the seductive side with Angharad Thompson Ree's gothic horror retelling of Little Red Riding Hood. A paranormal romance meets psychological thriller, “Moon Bitten" is a story that promises to keep you on the edge of your seat.


K.Z. Riley has written "Arabella", a beautiful young adult love story where you're more likely to find soccer boots than glass slippers. Follow Arabella on her journey of finding herself, discovering love and overcoming fear.


If you think you know the story of Rapunzel, think again. Courtney Shockey’s twisted tale is about a queen who looks far more innocent than she actually is. Bring her silk or priceless gifts, and she’ll seal your fate with a sweet, gentle kiss.





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Excerpt
“Moon Bitten” by Angharad Thompson Rees

I pull the hood of my red cape over my head, concealing myself against the gust of frigid winds biting with ice and spite. The skies hold the promise of more snow to come. He does not let go of my hand. And it’s not the snow concerning him.
“Blaxton,” I say—his name as sweet as honey on my recently-kissed lips. “Do not concern yourself. It is but a short walk through the woods, and yes, I promise to stay on the tracks.”
I raise an eyebrow, threatening him to contradict me. But he should know my penchant for wandering and losing myself. That’s how we met—deep within the woods in the first days of spring, when frost thawed atop the lake and his green eyes melted ice from my nervous heart.
He pulls me into his chest, his body warm against my own, tempting me to stay. Tempting me to never leave. I melt into him, lips hot as the first flakes of snow dance from the sky.
“Blaxton, no,” I say, pulling myself away with reluctance. The space between his heart and mine gapes as if the very universe could fill the hole. “I have to get back to Grandma, you know I do.”
His face drops at her mention. Grandma despises him despite his soft features, warm honey eyes and sweet, crooked smile. Though I suspect her hatred is aimed more at the threat he will steal me from her. Just as her daughter, my mother, was stolen so many years ago I can no longer picture her face. But that was different. Mother did not fall in love as I have. She was taken…
By wolves.
A perfectly timed howl echoes across the valley, carried along the land muted by snow. Blaxton raises his own eyebrow at the beast’s call and I laugh. An empty tin-like sound of hollow mirth and creeping fear.
“I’ll be fine. Tomorrow,” I say, allowing a smile to creep across my frost-numb face. “Let’s meet tomorrow, same time and place.”
Blaxton captures loose strands of my red hair in his pale fingers. The contrast startling like blood on snow. Tucking the strands behind my left ear, his fingers trail my cheek as he kisses my forehead. “Tomorrow,” he promises.
Contributing Authors

HALSTON JAMES

SONYA JESUS



SUZAN LEE



KELSIE RAE



ANGHARAD THOMPSON REES



K.Z. RILEY



COURTNEY SHOCKEY



#NewRelease #Giveaway for #FairyTales #Fantasy #YoungAdult "A Tale of Two Houses (Defy the Stars, #1)" by Susan Harris @SuzHarrisWrites


A Tale of Two Houses
Susan Harris
(Defy the Stars, #1)
Published by: Clean Teen Publishing
Publication date: March 25th 2019
Genres: Fairy Tales, Fantasy, Young Adult
Centuries ago, the royal house of witches in Vernanthia split into two factions: House Cambridge and House Montgomery. These two houses warred with each other for an age, causing widespread bloodshed and death. Those without magic—the Nulls—suffered the most. One day, a favored daughter of the Nulls was slain. With her dying breath, she cursed the covens to know no peace until love was possible between the houses.
That curse had long since been forgotten—until now.
Julian Montgomery is the reluctant Prince of House Montgomery and Rowan Cambridge is in no rush to become the Queen of House Cambridge. Both heirs long for freedom from their birthright obligations. When fate throws these two star-crossed lovers together, it sends them on a collision course with destiny that neither could have predicted.
Shakespeare’s classic Romeo & Juliet is reimagined in this compelling drama about two young people drawn by fate into an unwinnable situation. If you think you know how this story ends—think again!
EXCERPT:
“Go talk to her already.”
I jumped at the sound of Toby’s voice, who was grinning at me so much, I could see the white of his teeth.
“Go talk to her already,” he repeated, inclining his head toward the person I’d been staring at. “You’ve been standing there staring at her for quite a while. It’s starting to get weird.”
“I haven’t been staring,” I said with not much conviction as I took a large gulp of my ale.
“Yes, you have. Now is the perfect opportunity to go and ask her to dance. Considering she’s been eyeballing you when she thinks no one is looking, I do not think she will refuse you. Besides, I’m pretty certain the gorgeous creature beside her is the future queen of the Cambridge coven. You go romance her attack dog. Leave the princess to me.”
There was a hint of menace in his tone, a wolfish smile on his face. I put a hand on Toby’s arm. “We will not insult Ashbridge’s invitation by waging war here. It is horrid enough that we are stealing under his nose. Promise me, Toby. No bloodshed here.”
“Unless provoked, my Prince, there will be no bloodshed.”
I lift my arm from Toby’s as the seriousness fled his features. “Now, go get the girl.”
He pushed me forward and I almost stumbled in the dim light, causing me to glare at him for a moment before I rolled my shoulders and prayed that I don’t make an absolute fool of myself. My heart thundered like a drum as I made my way toward the girl, noticing that her eyes were the same color as her dress. My palms were sweating, and I licked my lips to try and rid myself of the dryness.
I stood a mere breath away from her when she turned in my direction, and I could not find the words to speak. Her companion, the girl Toby thought to be the Cambridge heir, giggled, even as Auggie chuckled, a dash of mischief in his eyes. But I blocked them out, my steely focus on the girl with the green eyes and a smile made of sunshine.
“I was wondering, M’lady, if you would dance with me?” I held out my hand, trying to ignore the tremble.


Author Bio:
Susan Harris is a writer from Cork in Ireland.
An avid reader, she quickly grew to love books in the supernatural/fantasy and Dystopian genre. She writes books for young adults and adults alike.
When she is not writing or reading, she loves music, oriental cultures, tattoos, creepy snow globes, DC shoes, stationary, anything Disney, Marvel movies, psychology and far too many TV shows. If she wasn't a writer, she would love to be a FBI profiler or a PA for Dave Grohl or Jared Leto.
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#NewRelease #Giveaway ($25 Amazon #giftcard) for #Adult #Romance #Suspense "Taken (Truth or Lies, #1)" by Ella Miles @AuthorEllaMiles


Taken by Lies
Ella Miles
(Truth or Lies, #1)
Publication date: March 26th 2019
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense
At 16 I was taken.
Kidnapped by a boy I thought I could love.
Then he sold me as if I were property.
For three years I endured.
Beatings.
Torture.
Pain.
I never broke.
I was strong, determined, resilient.
But then one day it happened…I broke.
Setting me free.
I should have run away, found a new life, and started over.
Instead, I returned.
To find the man who sold me.
EXCERPT:
Broken.
For one thousand and ninety-five days I’ve done everything to keep myself from breaking.
Shut off my mind off during the beatings.
Escaped the depths of the darkness in the night.
Locked down my body during the rapes.
Imagined a new life when I was tortured.
Gritted my teeth through the violations.
Tried every tactic I needed to survive.
Closing myself away.
Envisioning a better life.
Plotting my revenge.
None of the strategies worked long term.
I hate Enzo for what he did to me, but my need to extract revenge was never enough to keep me alive.
I would try blocking my reality out by pretending my stomach didn’t constantly ache, and my body wasn’t bruised, my bones shattered.
That would keep me alive for a few weeks.
But then came the loneliness.
Being alone was worse than the pain. Not having a friend, a family, or anyone who loved me, that was what made me give up hope more than anything.
It’s been over three years since I was taken.
When those strong arms grabbed me, and the hood went over my head, I didn’t know what my future held.
Nothing.
I am nothing.
I am nobody.
I am a ghost.
A commodity to be bought and traded.
I was sold for one million—that was my worth.
I look down at my naked, bruised body. There isn’t a patch of skin that hasn’t been colored. I doubt I’m worth as much now as I was when I was originally sold.
Who would want a pile of bones like me?
The boat rocks, and I heave. There is nothing in my stomach to come up, though. Sometimes I think it would be easier if I would just starve to death, but no matter how much I’ve tried, my body won’t give into the sweet release. My body has adapted and learned to survive on far less food and water than what it should be capable of.
I’ve tried finding weapons to end my life, but there are none to be found on this yacht.
I’ve searched, no man carries a gun—not even a knife.
I don’t understand the men who keep me.
Nothing about it makes sense. I don’t even know who is in charge. Who is my master? They all share in the torture. They all revel in the pleasure of watching me slowly disintegrate.
No.
I won’t break.
That’s the only thing keeping me sane for the last one thousand and ninety-five days.
The thrill at watching the men in frustration as I continue to hold on to who I am and what I’m capable of.
Their primary goal is breaking me.
I overheard them placing bets on how long it would take and who would deliver the final blow.
Three months…
Six months…
One year…
When I made it one year, they stopped betting. I think most of them thought I would never break at that point.
I won’t.
I can’t.


Author Bio:
Ella Miles is a USA Today Bestselling author, top 100 Amazon Bestselling author, and Kindle Press author. She writes steamy romance with a twist. She's currently living her own happily ever after near the Rocky Mountains with her high school sweetheart husband. Her heart is also taken by her goofy four year old black lab that is scared of everything, including her own shadow.
Ella is the author of the Amazon bestselling book TOO MUCH. She is also the author of the UNFORGIVABLE series, ALIGNED series, MAYBE series, and DEFINITELY series. Get NOT SORRY & ALIGNED: EVER AFTER for FREE by visiting her website: www.EllaMiles.com/freebooks.
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#PreOrder #Giveaway ($25 Amazon #giftcard) for #Adult #Contemporary "What We Do For Love" by Anne Pfeffer @AnnePfeffer1


What We Do For Love
Anne Pfeffer
Publication date: May 21st 2019
Genres: Adult, Contemporary
Thirty-eight year old Nicole Adams has given up on finding love. Instead, the single mother focuses on the things she cherishes most—her sixteen-year old son Justin, her friends, and her art.
When she convinces a prominent Los Angeles museum to feature a piece of her work, a large-scale installation, she thinks her life has finally turned a corner.
Then Justin brings a girl, Daniela, home to live with them. Daniela’s angry parents have thrown her out of the house, because she’s pregnant with Justin’s child. Shattered, Nicole takes Daniela in and, in so doing, is drawn into the inner circle of Daniela’s family—a frightening world of deceit and violence.
Nicole struggles to keep life going as normal. Forced to deal with people she doesn’t trust or like, fearful for the future of both her son and the grandchild they’re expecting, Nicole wonders if she can do what she tells Justin to do: always have faith in yourself and do the right thing.
EXCERPT:
Funny how one’s life can make a U-turn.
My life made two. In a single day.
I started that day as a mere potter—yes, a person who hand-makes vases and dinner plates for a living—wearing borrowed clothes and driving to the most important interview of my life. A few hours later came U-turn number one: the board of directors of CCMLA, the Contemporary Crafts Museum of Los Angeles, offered me a place in their upcoming show!
In an instant, I had become an artist. I pondered this fact wonderingly as I drove home that afternoon. I was to provide them with a brand-new, never-before-seen mural in ceramics, an installation piece. My wall would be located at the entrance to the exhibit, the first thing you saw as you walked in. This was my chance, an incredible opportunity.
I was an artist!
It didn’t bother me that desperation clearly underlay the board’s decision. All the better when I saved the day with a great contribution to their show!
I hoped.
Flushed with success, I revved my ancient Toyota, Bernice, up to twenty-two miles per hour. We practically skipped over the potholes as we barreled our way up the Trail of Terror. This was the name my son Justin had given the rutted, one-lane road that wound its way up the side of Laurel Canyon to our house.
Of course, I was a fill-in, hired at the last minute. I’d gotten this job when Miriam Fletcher, a customer of mine who happened to be on the museum board, moaned to me that an artist had dropped out of a show scheduled to open in six weeks. “We’re in such a pickle! We don’t know what to do!” Though her crepey neck revealed a senior citizen, Miriam otherwise projected youth, running long acrylic nails through her cropped, bleached and spiked hair, her copper earrings swinging.
My cue to pipe up. “I’m sure I could help you!”
Miriam trained her eyes upon me. She had recently ordered customized hand-made pieces from me to give to her granddaughters—a miniature tea set for the youngest and a statuette of a mermaid for her older sister.
“You do such beautiful ceramics work, Nicole!”
“What you’ve seen is my commercial work, which I do through my business Clayworks. I create as an artist under my own name.” That is, I hoped to create as an artist under my own name, if I could ever get the proper start.
And now I had. I could hardly wait to tell my son the news. After sixteen years of single motherhood and hard work, struggling to support myself and Justin, I couldn’t blow this chance. And yet, I’d never done anything like this before.
A twelve-by-nine foot mural. In just six weeks.
You can do this, I told myself. I had to. Letting the museum—and myself—down was unthinkable.
I could practically hear the snap-crackle-pop of my nerves.
I pulled into what we called the car park, an open space situated beside the house at the top of the Trail of Terror, big enough to park a half dozen cars. Justin’s Ford Focus wasn’t there.
When he got home from school, which should be any minute, we would raise a toast, our champagne glasses filled with sparkling apple cider.
The day was unseasonably hot, and I was boiling in Bernice, her air conditioner long dead. Thank heavens my hair had stayed up all day in the deliberately loose knot that I’d coaxed it into this morning, with pretty little bits of hair hanging down around my face. A chignon, according to the YouTube tutorial. One more degree of humidity and my whole head would have coiled itself into a giant Brillo pad right there before the entire board of directors.
And thank goodness I’d been able to borrow my sister’s striking red-and-orange color-blocked linen dress, which had given me just the boost of artist/business woman confidence that I’d needed. Now though, its linen skirt was hopelessly creased and hiking up around my hips. I bounded out of the car and proceeded along the circuitous route that we all used to enter the house, going through the rickety side gate, and past what was technically our front door, which no one ever opened. Instead, I followed the path that ran along the side of the house toward the yard and pool, giving a glance to my irises and roses, which grew under our bedroom windows.
The white, yellow, and purple irises stood tall and elegant, but it was the roses I really loved—the fluttery, home-grown variety that came in every color of the sunrise. I would have to harvest some for tonight’s dinner table.
As I reached the yard, I stepped from the cool shade of the side path into direct, hot sunshine. The sliver of Los Angeles ahead of me that appeared on clear days like this one, the perfume of herbs and blooming plants, the swimming pool that shimmered invitingly—except for my college years, this had been home all my life. Along with my sister Caroline, I’d inherited the small, dilapidated house on its magnificent parcel of land in the Hollywood Hills. At today’s prices, neither of us could have ever afforded to buy it.
Entering the house as always through the French doors off the living room, I waltzed into my bedroom. It was the beginning of a new era. Soon there would be no more making pottery on consignment! No more sets of dinnerware for twelve!
I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. Of course, I would continue to operate Clayworks. Those dinner sets paid the bills after all. Still though, there was now a chance I could taper off the business over time, if I could sell some of my more creative pieces. Imagine me, finally, at age thirty-eight, beginning to show in museums and galleries!
I changed into my regular daywear—a sleeveless cotton blouse, long flowy skirt in the coolest feather-light cotton, and Teva sandals.
My old friend Mike Sawyer would be over to eat with me and Justin, as he did most weeks, once or twice. Maybe I’d give them both my wonderful news at the same time.
No, I couldn’t wait that long to spill the news. I knew I would tell Justin the minute he walked in.
Hearing the muffled noise of a door opening, I sprinted to the kitchen, where my son, home at last, would for sure want to hear all about it.
I stopped short when I saw that Justin was not alone.


Author Bio:
Hi! I grew up in the desert around Phoenix, Arizona, where I had a bay quarter horse named Dolly. If I wasn't riding, I was holed up somewhere reading Laura Ingalls Wilder or the Oz books or, later on, Jane Eyre and The Grapes of Wrath. Horses eventually faded as an interest, but I ended up with a lifelong love of books and reading.
After college and eight years of living in cold places like Chicago and New York, I escaped back to the land of sunshine. I now live in California, one mile from the Pacific Ocean, with my dachshund Taco. I have worked in banking and as a pro bono attorney, doing adoptions and guardianships for abandoned children.
As a writer, I'd always been interested in children's books, since they had meant so much to me as a kid. I've found I especially like writing books about teens and twenty-somethings, an age where you make so many decisions about who you are and how you want to spend your life.
I love hearing from readers, so please write to me any time at my website www.annepfeffer.com.
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#NewRelease #Giveaway ($25 Amazon #giftcard) for #Adult #ContemporaryRomance "Heat (The Russo Saga #1)" by Nicolina Martin @nicolinamartin


Heat
Nicolina Martin
(Russo Saga, #1)
Publication date: March 29th 2019
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Anything can happen during the hot nights in the Dominican Republic.
Sydney
I just wanted a tan and to sip drinks with little umbrellas in them. I didn’t know that vacation would mean sex with a hot stranger, being drugged, and nearly killed. My instincts tell me there’s more to the smooth facade of Nathan Russo, but my heart won’t listen. He’s my opposite, hot where I’m cool, experienced while I’ve never really lived. What starts out as a sexy fling can’t be more. Can it?
Nathan
I’m a dangerous man with a mission to complete and people to kill. Sydney Lewis might literally cost me my life. As the stakes increase, I have to decide whether to follow my head or my heart. My life is too dangerous, I’m too much of a monster. She’s a good girl. She can’t be a part of this. I have to be cruel. I have to cut her out.
But she’s the only one who can save me.
Heat will take you on a journey to paradise, through Hell, and back.
Publisher’s Note: This dark romance is intended for adult readers only and may contain triggers for some readers. It contains elements of danger, adventure, steamy scenes, adult language and a guaranteed HEA. If any of these offend you, please do not purchase.
EXCERPT:
Fingers thread through my hair.
I don’t move, my heart speeds up. In an instant, I remember where I am. What I have done. I slept on his lap, knowing it was an open invitation to something I still can’t articulate. I fight to control my breathing and try not to stir, because I don’t want him to know I’m awake. I want to see where he takes this.
I realize I’m holding my breath and force myself to breathe again. I try to inhale calmly, but it catches in my throat. His arm, draped around my waist, tightens. He knows I’m awake, knows I’m not objecting, and he’s not stopping.
His hand slides under the blanket. It’s hot on my skin through my thin blouse. He traces a path along my arm down to my hand that lies in front of my chest, then he moves and places his palm below my breasts, letting it rest there. A finger slides across my nipple. It stiffens instantly. It screams for his attention, and that light brush is far from satisfying. I forget to breathe, and then I just give up on it altogether. I want more. This feels so kinky. So forbidden.
I have to force myself to stay still.
His hand hovers over my nipple, then he pinches it gently and I gasp, spikes of want surging through me. This pretending-to-sleep routine is going to be hard to keep up. When I don’t object, he grows bolder and cups my breast and squeezes. Carefully at first, and then with more force. He suddenly stills and I hear the soft steps of someone approaching.
“Is there anything you need, sir? Coffee? A pillow for yourself?”
“Thank you. I’m good,” he answers cheerfully.
“She seems to be having a good sleep.”
“Oh yes. Anyone would envy her.” His voice reverberates through his chest.
Oh yes indeed!
His hand starts exploring again. It moves down along my belly and I tense up like a piano wire. Is he going where I think he’s going? But then I feel his warm palm on my naked skin as he pushes his hand under my blouse and moves upward again. He pushes up my bra, freeing my breasts, pinching first one nipple and then the other before he firmly squeezes my breasts, paying good attention to them both. I squirm and am barely able to stifle the moan that wants to escape my throat. His other hand rests on my head, toying with my hair, then taking more of a forceful hold of it as his breathing changes, gets more labored. I like it. I like that I affect him as much as he affects me.
When his hand abandons my breasts, I miss its presence immediately. I wonder if he’s done exploring, but he changes direction, caressing along my stomach and then down the front of my hip. Oh—Oh my God! Sliding his hand down my skirt, he pulls it up until his fingers rest scorching hot on my thigh. Agonizingly slow, he feels his way up my thigh until his hand rests on my panties. Panties that are drenched with moisture.
When a finger starts circling my clit through the fabric, I can’t help the moan that escapes me.


Author Bio:
Nicolina Martin is a Swedish born author who escapes the long, dark winter nights by writing hot contemporary romance/suspense.
She's a mother of three teenage girls, a medical doctor, a quirky loner, and a social human being. She has traveled the globe, has had more lovers than she can count, has loved and hated, succeeded and failed, has gone through marriage and divorce. She has seen darkness and despair, as well as light and happiness.
All these experiences, she pours into her tales, taking her readers for a wild ride while twisting their minds. She loves showing that stories can be different even if the trope is the same.
Nicolina believes that life is too short for regrets and in looking forward, no matter what. She wants to enjoy every moment, and cherish life.
To find out more about Nicolina Martin, visit her official website.
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#NewRelease #Giveaway ($25 Amazon #giftcard) for #Adult #ScienceFiction "Aries 181" by Tiana Warner @tianawarner


Aries 181
Tiana Warner
Publication date: March 25th 2019
Genres: Adult, LGBTQ+, Science Fiction
A crime spree to steal aerospace technology. An intern with the brains to stop it.
When Jess uncovers evidence that her boss is stealing technology to build his company, her coveted internship at Aries turns from dream job to catastrophe. Worse, her boss cons another young woman into becoming his accomplice, and the duo’s chemically enhanced skills and weapons help them become the most infamous supercriminals to sweep the tech world. Before they pilfer every aerospace lab in North America, Jess must use her ingenuity to stop them—risking her career, her relationships, and maybe even her life.
EXCERPT:
The Aries Research Lab
A dead engineer was an inconvenient way to start the week.
From the passenger’s seat of his Bentley, Tony used his phone to post a new job opening.
“Get her car out of the parking lot. Torch it so it looks like tragedy struck on her way in.”
“Yes, sir,” said Reah, weaving through traffic as she took him to the Aries office.
Accidents were uncommon in the research lab. The work involved too much time behind a computer for that. But when the occasional ‘whoops’ did happen, it was an annoyance. Covering them up was a pain. Finding a willing and qualified replacement was worse.
“Warehouse,” said Scott when Tony entered the lab to check the damage. “She was modifying the propellant.”
Tony stifled a curse. Of course it was the propellant—the substance too stubborn to realize its own potential.
“Show me.”
He and Scott crossed the lab with its white lights reflecting off white tiles, white walls, white tables, and white lab coats. The five other engineers kept working, unease leaking from their pores like sweat. With only seven of Tony’s two hundred employees cleared for the lab, the hole left by their dead colleague was more of a chasm.
Tony was unruffled. Their non-disclosure agreements were thorough enough for a situation like this.
“What’s the damage?”
“She, uh—she was completely burnt, Doctor Ries.”
That much was obvious. Scott’s fluorescent-pale skin and lab coat were smudged, leaving a goggle-shaped clear spot around his eyes. Holes split the toes of his shoes, revealing socks with hamburgers printed on them.
“Was anything else destroyed?”
An empire of technology filled the warehouse. These were his top achievements, past and future. No accident, no matter how messy, could quash the pride he felt every time he entered it.
He flung open the double doors. The stench of burnt metal and hair tickled his gag reflex.
“Minor damage to the surrounding area,” said Scott, dabbing his sweaty brow with a singed sleeve. “No property was ruined.”
Delightful.
It took a moment to blink the warehouse into focus. Dim, cold, and vast, the place could have passed for a storage facility. Walkways snaked between mounds of technology.
An early prototype of the Aries satellites—what the world came to know as the Aries 180 fleet—stole Tony’s attention as he entered. The size of a bald eagle and mounted on a podium, it was the one now-useless technology he refused to incinerate. He caressed it as they passed.
Yet, despite all that filled the floor, the place was a cold vacuum, a void. Like the invisible substance called dark matter, every space in the warehouse represented an irksome gap in knowledge. Empty corners, walkways, every molecule of dead air held promise. As creator of the Aries universe, Tony intended to use any means necessary to fill those gaps.
Tony’s watch vibrated. He looked at it to find a text.
Reah: Need your clearance to get her purse. Locker 4.
He replied, 5 mins, and quickened his step.
The temperature rose as he and Scott drew deeper into the warehouse. A drone whirred overhead, taking photos at intervals. More drones hovered beneath the three-story ceiling, LED lights marking their presence. He would have to review the surveillance images later to see what happened. He might enjoy popcorn with it.
They stopped at the explosion site. The concrete floor rippled, like it had melted and hardened again. Every adjacent surface was dented and singed. Five dry chemical fire extinguishers lay nearby. Most intriguingly, a black, body-shaped imprint traced the floor like a shadow, a dusting of ash in its center.
Tony scattered the ash with his toe. “Looks like this place was pretty lit.”
Scott cast him a sideways glance.
The culprit was the twelve-foot vat towering beside the scene of the accident. Smoke wisped from the top, Tony’s hopes and plans disappearing with it into the black ceiling. The heat wrapped around him like a wool blanket.
“So the propellant isn’t going well,” said Tony, like a challenge.
“It just reacted badly,” said Scott. “I’m confident we’ll get it in time.”
“Hm.” Don’t placate me, Scotty. What churned inside that vat represented tens of millions of dollars.
Sure, every aerospace company had rocket propellant, but no one had this. This was his next opportunity for international success—his next Aries 180 fleet, so to speak. If only the damn stuff would stop failing him. The setback choked his sense of control like a vice around his throat.
His father had told him there was no point in going into business unless you were going to be the best. Rather, the advice had been something like, “You wanna run a business, you gotta do whatever it takes to get on top. Might as well quit and be a shit-scraper if you’re gonna be a pussy about it.”
Tony held that wisdom close. Using methods no one else was brave enough to try, he was on his way to upgrading Aries from a humble Canadian startup to the world’s most cutting-edge aerospace company.
His watch vibrated.
Steve: Korean Space Agency wants you to join the call.
Korea would have to wait. He was already late for an appointment with the bank.
“What are you going to do to fix it?” he said to Scott.
“We’re, uh, looking into it.”
“I hired all of you because you’re the smartest engineers in the world. You’re telling me you don’t know?”
Scott hesitated. Tony hated hesitation.
“There are other engineers who might know more about high-energy liquid tetrapropellant, Doctor Ries.”
“I’ve scoured universities. I’ve head-hunted in the Silicon Valley. They’re too—” Tony waved a hand. “They’re not ready for the scope of the job.”
Scott didn’t need to know how many applicants failed the psychological evaluation. A PhD and a 150 IQ meant squat when the candidate couldn’t pass a basic obedience experiment.
Tony’s watch buzzed again. He ignored it.
If he wanted this propellant, he would have to get his engineers something to work from. Sometimes, they needed a push. Call it inspiration, or pieces of the aerospace puzzle.
This was a gap in the matter that made up his universe. It needed to be filled.
“Give me a week. I’ll get you the data.”
Global Nanosats was making headway in liquid propulsion. They could be of use.
He pulled out his phone to check his calendar. An email notification appeared, reminding him of a development meeting in twenty minutes. He swiped it away.
Stress tickled the base of his brain. He would have to make time to get that data between his other appointments, or cancel a few. This was more important.
He’d known for a while that he was overexerting himself. His universe was expanding faster than he could manage. If he wasn’t careful there would be a stellar collision. He couldn’t keep filling these voids alone.
He needed someone to help him get this information—someone smart, fearless, and malleable. He needed a personal assistant.


Author Bio:
Tiana Warner is the best selling author of the Mermaids of Eriana Kwai trilogy. Her books have been acclaimed by Writer's Digest, Foreword Reviews, and the Dante Rossetti Awards. She holds a bachelor's degree in Computer Science from the University of British Columbia. Tiana enjoys riding her horse, Bailey, and is an active supporter of animal welfare.

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#BookBlitz #Giveaway ($25 Amazon gift card) for #Adult #Magical #Realism "Smoke City" by Keith Rosson @keith_rosson


Smoke City
Keith Rosson
Published by: Meerkat Press
Publication date: January 23rd 2018
Genres: Adult, Magical Realism
Marvin Deitz has some serious problems. His mob-connected landlord is strong-arming him out of his storefront. His therapist has concerns about his stability. He’s compelled to volunteer at the local Children’s Hospital even though it breaks his heart every week.
Oh, and he’s also the guilt-ridden reincarnation of Geoffroy Thérage, the French executioner who lit Joan of Arc’s pyre in 1431. He’s just seen a woman on a Los Angeles talk show claiming to be Joan, and absolution seems closer than it’s ever been . . . but how will he find her?
When Marvin heads to Los Angeles to locate the woman who may or may not be Joan, he’s picked up hitchhiking by Mike Vale, a self-destructive alcoholic painter traveling to his ex-wife’s funeral. As they move through a California landscape populated with “smokes” (ghostly apparitions that’ve inexplicably begun appearing throughout the southwestern US), each seeks absolution in his own way.
Now in Paperback!
EXCERPT:
The years bled together. Each waking morning—or afternoon, truth be told, or evening—couched in a familiar bloom of panic. After that, after Vale realized where he was, who he was, came the rest: sickness, fear, assessment of damage, all of it stitched together with the fine red thread of guilt.
Art & Artists had once called him a “relentless avatar of our contemporary, post-nuclear unease.”
He woke to the alarm, studded in fresh bruises. New scabs on his knees and his teeth loose in his mouth. His lack of memory familiar in itself. Sunlight fell in the room in fierce, distinct bands.
He stood shivering in the shower, the water lancing against him while lava, hot and malicious, compressed itself behind his optic nerves. This pulsing thunder in the skull, and moments from the Ace High the night before came to him slowly, like something spied through a fun house mirror. He bent over to pick up a sliver of soap and with his trembling hand batted a rust-dotted razor lying on the rim of the bathtub. The razor slid down the tub, luge-like, and Vale reached down for it, trying not to gag as dark spots burst like stars in his periphery. He stumbled and stepped on the razor. The crack of plastic, and thin threads of blood began to snake toward the drain. It was painless.
“Oh, come on,” he croaked. “Shit’s sake.” He’d smoked nearly two packs of Camels the night before and sounded now like something pulled howling from a crypt. He tried to stand on his other foot to examine the cut and couldn’t manage it. He put his foot back down and stepped on the broken razor again, and now the floor of the tub was awash in an idiot’s Rorschach of red on white. He retched once and shut the water off, resigned to death—or at least collapse—at any second. The towel hanging from the back of the door reeked of mold, and he gagged against it and dropped it to the floor. He left bloody, shambling one-sided footprints to his bedroom.
Apart from the painting hanging above his bed (the sole Mike Vale original still in his possession), the fist-sized hole next to the light switch was the room’s only decoration. There was a dresser pitted with cigarette burns and topped with a constellation of empty beer bottles. An unmade bed ringed with dirty sheets. The alarm clock on the floor. Plastic blinds rattled against the open window.
He dressed slowly and stepped to the kitchen. Flies dive-bombed bottles mounded in the sink, on the counters. The light on the answering machine was blinking. He pressed the Play button, already knowing who it would be—who else called him?—and there was Candice’s voice.
“The only man in the country still using an answering machine,” she said. “Okay. This is me saying hi. Give me a ring when you discover, you know, fire and the wheel.” Her voice then became steeped in a cautious, thoughtful cadence, a measured quality he remembered more clearly from their marriage. “Richard and I should be heading up through there on tour for another Janey book soon. It’d be good to touch base, get dinner. Call me.”
It was September, the last gasp of summer. The apartment was explosive with trapped heat. A swath of sunlight fell across the countertop. Just looking at that glare hurt his eyes, his entire body, made him feel as if rancid dishwater was shooting straight into his guts. A nameless sadness, the sadness, the exact opposite of the Moment and so much more insistent, tore through him like a torrent. Like a rip of lightning, there and gone, and Vale sobbed. Just once. One ragged, graceless gasp. Pathetic. He stood sweating over the answering machine, ashamed of himself.
He was out the door five minutes later, blood wetting his sock, cold coffee and aspirin hammering a bitter waltz somewhere below his heart.
Time had once called him “a shaman of America’s apocalyptic incantations, one who catalogs our fears and thrusts them back at us in a ferocious Day-Glo palette.”
On his way to the bus stop Mike Vale, the shaman, the avatar—looking down in his shirt pocket for a cigarette—ran directly into a telephone pole, hard enough to give himself a nosebleed.


Author Bio:
Keith Rosson is the author of the novels The Mercy of the Tide and Smoke City, and his short fiction has appeared in Cream City Review, PANK, December, The Nervous Breakdown, and more. He's been twice nominated for a Pushcart Prize and a finalist for the Birdwhistle Prize for Short Fiction. He's also an illustrator and graphic designer, with clients that include Green Day, Against Me, the Goo Goo Dolls, and others. A fierce advocate of public libraries and non-ironic adulation of the cassette tape, he can be found at keithrosson.com.
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#NewRelease #Giveaway ($100 Amazon #giftcard) for MC #Romance "Knights Lady (Rumblin’ Knights #3)" by Bella Jewel @GiveMeBooksPR and @BellaJewel73

Title: Knights Lady
Series: Rumblin' Knights #3
Author: Bella Jewel
Genre: Romance
Release Date: March 29, 2019

Blurb
LUCY
I’ve always held my own.
I’m determined.
I’m happy.
I’m strong.
Not right now, though. Right now I’m weak.
Pathetic.
Because I screwed up, I screwed up in a way I can’t fix.
I destroyed someone.
I stomped on a heart.
I broke the one rule all women should live by.
There is no coming back from it.
Yet, I can’t seem to find the strength to stop.
Nicolai. That name. It ruins me.
I tried to stay away.
I fought so hard.
I knew what he was. Who he was.
I knew what he had done.
But I can’t seem to stop.
I try and forget how his hands felt against my skin.
How his lips felt on mine.
How his body moved. God, his body.
I’m a terrible person.
A terrible sister.
But take me to hell, if you must, so long as he comes with me.

DAMON
Get a girl, they say.
Find a woman, Damon.
Settle down.
I have one thing to say to that. Women equal drama.
You know it’s true.
I don’t have time for drama.
Why can’t I be different? Why do I have to follow the trend?
My story doesn’t have to match theirs. Hell, when the time comes I’ll find the right one.
Until then, I’ll stick to friends. Yep. I can do friends.
Lucy. She’s my friend. My best friend, if I’m being honest.
She’s strong.
She’s determined.
She kind of holds my pieces together. And I hers.
In the most non-romantic way I can think of.
She has plenty of her own drama, she keeps us both busy.
She’s like a sister.
No, scratch that.
Lucy, she’s the kind of woman who could run a country.
Hold a family together.
That’s the kind of person she is.
The lady of the house.
Yep.
That’s our Lucy.
Knights Lady.

Purchase Links

AMAZON US; / UK; / CA; / AU
Only available at the following retailers
for a VERY limited time
B&N; / KOBO; / APPLE BOOKS


Also Available

AMAZON US; / UK; / CA; / AU
Free in Kindle Unlimited

AMAZON US; / UK; / CA; / AU
Free in Kindle Unlimited

Author Bio
Bella Jewel is a self published, USA Today bestselling author. She’s been publishing since 2013. Her first release was a contemporary romance, Hell’s Knights which topped the charts upon release. Since that time, she has published over five novels, gaining a bestseller status on numerous platforms. She lives in North Queensland and is currently studying editing and proofreading to further expand her career. Bella has been writing since she was just shy of fifteen years old. In Summer 2013 she was offered an ebook deal through Montlake Romance for her bestselling modern day pirate series, Enslaved By The Ocean. She plans to expand her writing career, planning many new releases for the future.
Author Links

#NewRelease #Giveaway (Kindle Fire) for #Dark #BDSM #Mafia #Romance "Heat (The Russo Saga #1)" by Nicolina Martin @GiveMeBooksPR and @nicolinamartin


Title: Heat
Series: The Russo Saga #1
Author: Nicolina Martin
Publisher: Blushing Books
Genre: Dark BDSM Mafia Romance
Release Date: March 29, 2019

Blurb
Anything can happen during the hot nights in the Dominican Republic.

Sydney
I just wanted a tan and to sip drinks with little umbrellas in them. I didn’t know that vacation would mean sex with a hot stranger, being drugged, and nearly killed. My instincts tell me there’s more to the smooth facade of Nathan Murphy, but my heart won’t listen. He’s my opposite, hot where I’m cool, experienced while I’ve never really lived. What starts out as a sexy fling can’t be more. Can it?

Nathan
I’m a dangerous man with a mission to complete and people to kill. Sydney Lewis might literally cost me my life. As the stakes increase, I have to decide whether to follow my head or my heart. My life is too dangerous, I’m too much of a monster. She’s a good girl. She can’t be a part of this. I have to be cruel. I have to cut her out.
She’s the only one who can save me.

Heat will take you on a journey to paradise, through Hell, and back.
***
This dark romance is intended for adult readers only. It contains elements of danger, adventure, steamy scenes, adult language and a guaranteed HEA. If any of these offend you, please do not purchase.

Purchase Links
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Free in Kindle Unlimited

Excerpt
One button at a time, I undo his shirt and plant a kiss on every new patch of revealed skin. Tearing it off him, I add it to the pile on the floor.
“You’re playing with fire, girl.”
I stick out my tongue at him, and he has me on my back in a flash, his body flush against mine. A hard bulge presses against the apex of my thighs, making my pussy clench with anticipation, but I push at him.
“Hey, I wasn’t finished.”
He regards me, then pushes up, his eyes almost black as he stares hungrily at me. “Get on with it,” he growls.
Our gazes are locked, as I pull the belt out of its loops and drop it to the floor. Pulling down the zipper, I make sure to brush against his hard length. He bucks and lets out a grunt. I grin and push him onto his back, then I pull off his pants and socks in a few jerky moves. Sitting back, I admire my work and the positively beautiful creature before me. He nods at his underwear. I’m more than happy to oblige and pull the last piece of fabric off him, shivering as I take in the breathtaking man in my bed.
Author Bio
Nicolina Martin is a Swedish born author who escapes the long, dark winter nights by writing hot contemporary romance/suspense. She’s a mother of three teenage girls, a medical doctor, a quirky loner, and a social human being. She has traveled the globe, has loved and hated, succeeded and failed, has gone through marriage and divorce. She has seen darkness and despair, as well as light and happiness. All these experiences, she pours into her stories, taking her readers for a wild ride, while twisting their minds. She loves showing that stories can be different even if the trope is the same.

Nicolina believes that life is too short for regrets and in looking forward, no matter what. She wants to enjoy every moment, and cherish life.

To find out more about her, visit her official website at: https://www.nicolinamartin.com/; or follow her on social media.
Author Links