Forbidden Heat
by JL WhiteGENRE: New Adult RomanceBLURB:They call us the Firework Girls.
I’m Isabella. My comfort zone consists of a bank of test tubes and a Bunsen burner. But having to take a philosophy class to graduate from college—well, that’s causing a different kind of burn altogether. I mean, the hottest professor at Hartman is looking right at me.
Can you blame me for looking back?Excerpt :While listening to Jack’s story, I take another sip. Over the rim of my raised glass, just down the hall, I see Shane Brooks watching me.And he’s alone.He doesn’t seem to know I’ve spotted him, for his eyes are traveling down the length of my body, wrapped in form-fitting velvet, and back up again. He looks hungry, and slightly stunned.I slowly lower my glass, granting him full view of my cleavage, which he lingers on for a moment before finally, slowly, meeting my eyes.This time neither one of us look away.One heartbeat. Two.I lose count as the moment lingers on.“Ah!” Jack says suddenly, snapping me out of my trance. “Here comes our brigade.”I glance toward the Ladies room exit to see Chloe and Ashley emerge.Jack offers me his arm and I take it automatically, my eyes darting back to Professor Brooks, who’s still watching me.A soft ding sounds through the hall, indicating we have only two minutes remaining of the intermission.“Fair ladies,” Jack says, putting on a grand persona, “may I escort you back to your seats?”“Only if I can have the rest of your champagne,” Sam says, taking Jack’s glass and downing it. He smiles easily, leading us away.Still gripping Jack’s arm, I glance back over my shoulder.Shane Brooks is watching my every move.AUTHOR Bio and Links:J.L. White writes steamy romances featuring smart, sexy women and the swoon-worthy men who adore them. Her sexy love stories are full of passion but don’t skimp on the tenderness. She’s addicted to trendy coffee houses, poolside lounging, and HEAs. When not tapping blissfully away on her laptop, she takes time to enjoy life with her husband and their children.LinksBooksForbidden Heat will be $0.99 during the tour.GIVEAWAYJ.L. White will be awarding a $40 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.
May 17, 2016
Blog tour for FORBIDDEN HEAT by JL White
May 16, 2016
Blog tour for THE INTERGALACTIC CUSTODY BATTLE by Lee J. Mavin
The Intergalactic Custody Battle
by Lee J. MavinGENRE: FantasyBLURB:Ziggy has been taken from away from Earth, stolen away so it seems to complete his training on another planet. Little does he know that his Alien father has grand plans for him, plans for him to take the royal throne and lead the Empire! Ziggy’s mother (a mere human) wants him back so she is going to fight for her Son’s custody, even if his father is the Emperor of an Alien race! An Alien race that has plans to expand its Intergalactic Empire. Ziggy’s best friend Hiroki, the tiny super genius, plans on finding Ziggy too, even if he does miss his year twelve math exams. The Intergalactic Custody Battle is the first of a trilogy that crosses the universe. Get ready for a wild ride across the galaxy!Excerpt :
Two green cockroaches sped toward earth in their silver space pod. Well, to call them cockroaches is quite inaccurate actually, even though they did resemble cockroaches in some ways. They were, of course, distant cousins of the creepy brown insect you might find on your kitchen bench in the middle of the night, but that’s getting a little off track. In any case, the two green cockroach-like beings made their way into the Earth’s atmosphere.The bigger roach, who had more brown spots on his back than the other, shouted, 'Is that Shanghai down there?' If you could understand the Zular language, that is.The other, smaller, green roach, who was steering (very badly) replied, 'I think so; it is very hard to see through all that pollution. If we were going to sector two, we would be able to see the horizon a lot clearer. That dimension is so much simpler than this one.'AUTHOR Bio and Links:After six years in Shanghai, I am finally back in Sydney (brand new home). Here I will teach and focus on my writing! I will be starting my Phd in Arts at the University of Sydney in March 2015!I have already polished off a children's novel, a collection of poetry and am about to publish a series of stories titled "The Students Sold Us Secrets Volume One" with ASJ Publishers. http://www.asjpublishing.com/I'm also kept on my toes by my feisty wife and three year old daughter both of whom are Chinese. They like to let me know how bad my Chinese is on a daily basis.Oh yeah, I used to be an MC, I mean I was potentially the next Aussie Eminem,(just kidding) but there is an EP by yours trully somewhere out there in the world wide web....
- https://www.facebook.com/lee.mavin.37
- https://www.facebook.com/TheStudentsSoldUsSecrets
- https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5103759.Lee_J_Mavin
GIVEAWAY
Lee J. Mavin will be awarding a $30 Amazon/BN GC, 5 print copies of The Intergalactic Custody Battle (International Giveaway), and 10 print copies of The Diary of a 7th Grade Hybrid (International Giveaway) to randomly drawn winners via rafflecopter during the tour.
May 15, 2016
Scorpio's Kiss by M C Domovitch #BlogTour @MoniqueDomovitc
Scorpio's Kiss
Author: M C DomovitchGenre: RomanceRelease Date: January 2016Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions
Scorpio's Kiss is a spell-binding tale of love, ambition and greed that will keep the reader turning the pages until its surprise ending. Set in New York and Paris amid the glamorous and competitive worlds of art and real estate, Scorpio's Kiss takes the reader from the late 1940s to the 1960s through the tumultuous lives of its heroes.
There is Alex Ivanov, the son of a Russian immigrant and part-time prostitute. He yearns to escape his sordid life and achieve fame and fortune. His dreams of becoming a world-class builder are met with countless obstacles, yet he perseveres in the hope of someday receiving the recognition he craves.
Half a world away, Brigitte Dartois is an abused teenager who runs into the arms of a benefactor with an agenda all his own. When she finds out that her boss has an ulterior motive, she flees again, determined to earn her living through her art. This career brings her fame, but also the unwanted attention of her early abuser.
Domovitch’s novel is a compelling tale, filled with finely etched characters and a superb understanding of the power of ambition. Scorpio's Kiss promises to resonate with all who once had a dream.
1948
The days were getting shorter. The boy looked up in surprise at the sky, which had suddenly grown dark. He pulled his worn sweater tight against the October chill, blew warm breath into his cupped hands and hurried on. The newspaper bag strung across his shoulders was almost empty. He no longer had to put it down at every street corner to massage his sore back. He was almost home.
Alexander Ivanov lived at the end of the world. To the twelve-year-old, that was exactly what Brooklyn was; the end of the world. Maybe because the one time he had been to the city, what he called Manhattan, it had taken forever on the subway.
Alex hated living in Brooklyn, and never more so than when his mother talked about her youth in Leningrad with tears running down her face. She would revert to Russian, which he didn’t understand, but the passion in her eyes spoke more volubly of the beauty of her old country than words couldconvey.
Every day on his way back from school, weighed down by the load of newspapers, he passed the same dusty old stores, their signs barely legible from the peeling paint; the same ratty tenement buildings in which people suffocated in the summer and shivered in the winter; the same old women in their ritual wigs and shapeless dresses, vacant and blank expressions of hopelessness etched on their faces. Hopeless, that was how he sometimes felt; and then he would remember Manhattan and feel better. If there was one thing Alex wished for, it was to live in Manhattan. He yearned for Manhattan the way his mother pined for her old country.
Alex walked along Main Street, where pickles marinated in barrels, salamis swung from hooks, and sausages dried in their cotton bags. He was oblivious to the sights and smells around him. One by one, he took the papers from his bag, and with a quick, experienced motion, he threw them. His aim was almost perfect.
Tomorrow was collection day. He would stop at each house along his route and wait while his clients went to get their money. After making change, he would thank each one of them politely even though most never bothered to leave him a tip. His work would take him more than twice as long as on normal delivery days. Still, he looked forward to it. Collection day was when he could go home, count out his profits and decide how much of the money he could save. This week, if all went well, he might reach the fifty-dollar mark in his bank account. Fifty dollars! It was a fortune.
He reached into his bag, pulled out the last newspaper and aimed it with unerring precision at the Kodesky’s front porch. At that moment the door swung open and old man Kodesky stepped out. The paper flew through the air like a projectile and landed with a thud in the startled man’s well-padded stomach.
“Hey, you no-good little piece of shit!” He waved his fist. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Alex did not hear a word. He was a million miles away, dreaming of the day he would escape the hell of living at the end of the world.
Even now, two years later, he could still remember every detail of his trip to Manhattan. After a long subway ride, he’d emerged in the city surrounded by skyscrapers so tall, he could only see the top by looking up high and leaning back. People on the street rushed about in the lightly falling snow, pushing and jostling each other, their arms full of brightly wrapped packages. It was one week before Christmas and there was a dizzying feeling of joy in the air. Alex had been almost drunk from the excitement. This must be what Leningrad was like.
Deep in his dreams of unlimited delights, he walked home. Three blocks later, Alex climbed the stairs to the dingy one-bedroom apartment where he and his mother lived.
Before he was born, his mother had tried to make the apartment look warm and inviting. She hung pretty paper on the walls and crisp curtains over the windows. The furniture was inexpensive but attractive and functional. Whatever nesting instinct had once inspired Marlena Ivanov’s efforts had long disappeared. For the past twelve years she had done nothing more to improve her home. Indeed, she had not done even the most basic of repairs. Over time, the wallpaper had become worn and faded. The curtains lost their freshness and the once attractive furniture became old and shabby. The sour stench of poverty clung to the apartment like old dirt.
Alex closed the door behind him and dropped his canvas bag on the floor. He sniffed the air and wrinkled his nose. From the kitchen came the smell of boiled cabbage.
“Is dat you Alexander? Vere ver you? Is nearly six o’clock and dinner is been ready for hour,” his mother’s heavily accented voice called out from the bathroom. “I getting ready to go out. You villave to eat alone.”
Through the thin door came the sound of the toilet flushing. A moment later Marlena appeared wearing a tight pink sweater set and a black satin skirt. Her dark hair was freshly coifed, the marks of the bobby pins still imprinted between each wave. Her mouth was painted crimson in the shape Joan Crawford had made popular a decade earlier. From ten feet away the smell of vodka on her breath was overpowering.
“Will you be coming home by yourself?” asked the boy suspiciously.
“Vat you vant me to do?” She picked up her purse abruptly and threw in her lipstick. “You vant to eat. I not do dis for me. A boy need food to grow big, strong. Someday you understand.” A moment later, she was gone.
Marlena Ivanov was a bitter woman. She made no secret of the fact that raising a boy by herself was a heavy cross to carry, one she deeply resented. Alex sometimes thought his mother hated him almost as much as she did his father. He had never seen his father. He knew, only because his mother repeatedly told him, that Pavel Ivanov had been a gambler and a womanizer. Whatever wages the man had earned, he just as quickly spent on those two vices. The day Alex was born was the day Pavel Ivanov decided that married life was not for him. He disappeared, leaving his seventeen-year-old wife to deal with the struggles of working and raising a son by herself.
After a dinner of cabbage soup, Alex turned off the lights and climbed under his blankets. In the dark, he could clearly see his mother’s empty bed a few feet from his own. He turned his back to it and curled up.
Hours later, the muffled sound of laughter woke him up. The bedroom door swung open and the light turned on.
“Turn dat off. You vake up boy,” his mother ordered in a shrill whisper. The light flicked off. “Das better. I like dark.” She laughed. “Now, come to Marlena.” Clothes rustled. From his cot, in the corner of the room, Alex guessed every gesture, every movement. Old springs creaked. The sounds were loud, magnified by the stillness of the night.
Alex covered his ears. By trying hard, maybe he could keep the noises from reaching him. It was too late. The guilty stirring in his loins had already begun. His mind swirled in a mix of emotions too strong for him to understand. Maybe if he thought of something else. Someday I’ll drive in from the city in a brand new Cadillac. I’ll show them all…
The next morning, Marlena kissed the man goodbye and turned triumphantly to Alex. “See dis?” She pulled out a ten-dollar bill from between her breasts. “Dis can buy food for whole week.”
Alex looked away, embarrassed and ashamed, and returned to the picture he was drawing on the back of his spelling book.
M C Domovitch is the author of nine books, four of which were published under the pen name Carol Ann Martin. Another four were published under Monique Domovitch. Now that she is focusing her energies writing Sweeping Romances and Romantic Suspense she had chosen to identify her new genres by using her initials rather than her surname. She is now working on another Sweeping Romance in the style of Scorpio's Kiss, this one, tentatively titled Under a Libra Sky.
Monique has enjoyed other successful careers before becoming a writer. She was one of Canada's top models. "That was a lifetime ago," she says with a laugh. She has also hosted her own television show, Her Money, a program about finance and investing geared for women. It was only when she and her husband moved across the country after the end of her television career that she decided to pursue her true passion, writing. At a writer's conference in San Diego, she attended a workshop where her novel attracted the attention of a publisher and an agent. And the rest, as they say, is history.
Domovitch lives with her physician husband and their dogs, and they divide their time between homes in Victoria BC, Toronto Ontario and Key Largo Florida.
May 13, 2016
Blog Tour : Spark by Holly Schindler
If you could free yourself of your flaws, who would you be?
We all have things about ourselves that we wish we could change. (If only, we all think, I were prettier, taller. Or, I wish I could make my nose smaller, get rid of the scar on my chin, not have such frizzy hair, clear up my skin…) If your fantasy was granted, and what you perceive to be your biggest flaw was magically erased, how would it change you? Would you behave differently? Would you finally talk to your crush, go out for the lead in the play? Would you step into the spotlight? Would you finally be brave enough to make your mark?“The theaters in my own hometown proived the genesis for my new YA novel, Spark. Let me invite you to dim the lights and draw back the velvet curtains—let your imagination run wild as you enter my fictional Avery Theater, where literally anything goes…” —Holly Schindler~
“In Quin, Schindler has crafted a quick-witted, white protagonist who draws readers into her search for answers about her family’s past as well as the Avery’s. Scenes set in the past are rich with authentic voices and period detail, and Schindler’s crisp prose flows easily between the past and the present. Even when it seems impossible for the show to go on, Schindler’s imaginative story will have readers rooting for Quin and her classmates to ‘break a leg.’ A tale of love, family, and friendship, tailor-made for readers who believe in the mystery and magic of the theater.”– Kirkus Reviews
Publisher: HarperTeen
Release Date: May 17th 2016
Genre: Young Adult, Contemporary, Fantasy, Magic, RealismSynopsis:The local Avery Theater was just a run-down building to Quin—until her mother told her the tragic love story of Nick and Emma that played out on the theater’s stage all those years ago. Quin is convinced it’s the perfect story to rewrite for her drama class, but when she goes searching for more information, she makes a startling discovery—the Avery is rapidly regaining its former splendor and setting the stage for her classmates Dylan and Cass to relive Nick and Emma’s romance. Quin can see the spark between them, but it’s up to her to make sure her friends—and the Avery—can both be saved this time around.Holly Schindler’s work has received starred reviews in Booklist and Publishers Weekly, has won silver and gold medals in ForeWord Reviews Book of the Year and the IPPY Awards, respectively, has been featured on Booklist’s Best First Novels for Youth and School Library Journal’s What’s Hot in YA, and has been a PW Pick of the Week. She is owned by a Pekingese named Jake, and can be found working on her next book in her hometown of Springfield, Missouri. She can also be found at hollyschindler.com.
Spark is Holly Schindler’s fourth YA. (Previously releases include A Blue So Dark, Playing Hurt, and Feral.) Her YAs have received starred reviews in Booklist and Publishers Weekly, won silver and gold medals in ForeWord Reviews Book of the Year and the IPPY Awards, respectively, been featured on Booklist’s Best First Novels for Youth and School Library Journal’s What’s Hot in YA, and been chosen as a PW Pick of the Week.
May 12, 2016
Blog tour for SONG OF THE OCEANIDES by J.G. Zymbalist
Song of the Oceanides
by J.G. ZymbalistGENRE: YA FantasyBLURB:
NOTE: The book is on sale for $0.99.
Free for Kindle Unlimited Members or as part of Kindle MatchBook.
Excerpt :Dyce’s Head, Maine.31 August.Rory Slocum had only just returned home from Putnam’s General Store and Newsagent when he noticed the girl standing in the heart of the garden. She seemed to be lost in the music of the wind chimes dangling from Mother’s lilac tree. Still, despite the girl’s seeming innocence, somehow he just knew that she must be one of the Oceanides who had been taunting him all summer long.She must have heard his footsteps in the salty afternoon breeze because she turned to look upon him. What a comely girl too.A bit of jam and then some! He stopped in his tracks and studied her classical features.She had plum-black hair, eyes of sea green, bold chiseled planes to her face, fine hallowed cheeks, and a sharp jaw line. How could she be anything but an Oceanide?Slowly he advanced as far as the fog cannon where he paused a second time. Perhaps he would do something so as to entertain her, and once she realized how amusing he could be, she would tell the others to leave him be. He walked over to the lilac tree. “Look what I’ve got here!” With that he held up his copy of Sir Pilgarlic Guthrie’s Phantasy Retrospectacle.She must have resented the whole notion that a boy like Rory would even think to approach someone like her. Grimacing, she called to another girl who had just walked up through the gale-torn bluffs. The two of them spoke in a tongue resembling the Byzantine Greek in which the drunken churchwarden sometimes delivered his public addresses.As giddy as ever, Rory advanced a few more steps. “You know what they call this sort of picture book, do you? Down at Putnam’s, they tell me it’d be un comique pittoresque. Just like the newsagents sell down there in Paris.” Now he pointed to the picture on the dust jacket—the Oceanides’ long flowing hair and the mint-cream linen gowns reaching down to their ankles. Afterward he pointed at the girls themselves standing there in their own creamy-white gowns. “Sir Pilgarlic Guthrie, he’s the bettermost! Everything bang up to the elephant and—”“Have you any idea how odd you are?” the first Oceanide asked. “And you’ll be beginning your fifth year in school next fall, isn’t that right? They’ll tear you apart, a beanpea like you.”AUTHOR Bio and Links:J.G. Źymbalist began writing Song of the Oceanides as a child when his family summered in Castine, Maine where they rented out Robert Lowell’s house.The author returned to the piece while working for the Martha’s Vineyard Historical Society, May-September, 2005. He completed the full draft in Ellsworth, Maine later that year.For more information, please see http://jgzymbalist.com
LINKS:
GIVEAWAYOne randomly chosen winner via rafflecopter will win a $50 Amazon/BN.com gift card.
Subscribe to:
Posts
(
Atom
)