Saturday, November 30, 2013

Cover Reveal: Shatter by Melissa Andrea

by: Melissa Andrea

Book Information

Title: Shatter
(The Discover Series) 
Author: Melissa Andrea
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Release: Early 2014

To survive you have to sacrifice.

To sacrifice you have to Shatter.

Author Info
I find it hard to sum up my life in a paragraph, but I'll try. Reading has always been a passion for me and writing is as instinctive as breathing. Every inhale is an idea; every exhale a creation. Flutter, The Discover Series was my debut release and since then I have written a contemporary romance, The Edge of Darkness. The only thing I do better than writing? Making beautiful, sassy and independent, girls. My daughter's will always be my greatest accomplishment, my biggest fans and my every inspiration. I live, breath and would die for them!

I've been married to one of the greatest men in my life for 7 years and I love him more than chocolate (you know shit just got real , Justin Timberlake and Friday's. Without him my website would be a mess and I would probably being paying more taxes than I should be. He is a jack of many trades and this is just my opinion but I like to think besides my daughters, I'm his second biggest accomplishment. (Does anyone else hear a horn tooting?)

I was born in Denver, Colorado -but I will always think of sunny Arizona as my home. I don't have a big family, but I'm close with my sister, brother & my mom. My mom is my hero, my inspiration, and I couldn't have asked for a more amazing person to be raised by. She has supported me throughout this crazy adventure and I'm lucky to have her on my side!

6 things you should know about me:
1. I'm a tornado with lipstick! Translation: I'm very girly, but I can get down and dirty with the best of them.
2. I adore the color pink!
3. I love things that sparkle (including vampires!)
4. I like even numbers (hence 6 things about me, not 5)
5. I'm loyal to a fault but I like to see the good in everybody. Don't mistake my kindness for weakness though because my bark is not always bigger than my bite :))
6. I don't like calling readers 'fans'. When it come down to it, I am all YOUR biggest fan! MWAH!

I will never be able to thank every reader, every blogger or every author who has helped me in one or a million ways since I published but I will try every chance I get. Y'all are the reason I am here and every comment, every message, every review makes me feel like I have a reason to be. So to the moon and back, THANK YOU! Okay, so this was a little longer than a paragraph. My stalker links all in one super easy spot.

Release Event: Surrender to Temptation by E.B. Walters


Book Title:  Surrender to Temptation
Series:  The Fitzgerald Family
Author:  E.B. Walters
Genre:  Contemporary Romance | Suspense | Sensual
Presented by: As You Wish Tours

Banner Made by:  Camelia Miron Skiba


A playboy in hiding
A woman searching for answers
Will he let her in or send her packing?
After a tragic accident, Chef Chase Fitzgerald left his life in Los Angeles behind and moved to a ranch in Montana. He's convinced that all he needs to be happy are his horses, a few ranch hands and the Big Sky Country. Until one day, Nikki Savoy walks through his doors with her city clothes, sexy mouth, and a body designed to drive a man insane.
Nikki wants to know the truth about the accident that left her sister in a coma. Getting a job at Chase’s ranch is just the beginning. Throw in a crafty housekeeper, a cantankerous old cowboy, a few adorable horses, and an attraction that can’t be denied, and you have a recipe for disaster or romance. Will Nikki get her answers or will Chase offer her something better?

Early Excerpt:

Reality hit Nikki as she listened to Chase’s thundering heart in her ears. Or was it the blood pounding in her head? She didn’t know whether to curl against him and absorb his heat or bolt upstairs to analyze what had just happened. She couldn’t dare deny that she hadn’t enjoyed every minute of it. She closed her eyes and decided she didn’t want to think. She was staying.

It was a long time before she said, “I thought I said there will be no more kissing.”

Chase chuckled. “I decided I didn’t like your rules.”

She smiled at his arrogance. “Don’t I have a say in it?”

“No. We’ve played by your rules so far. Now we are following mine.”

“Which are?”

“We make love whenever and wherever we feel like it.”

She didn’t know how to react to his boldness and tried to sit up, but his arm tightened around her. “I need to finish my work, Chase,” she whispered.

“The computer can wait.” Chase murmured as he caressed her neck again, moved down, and brushed her taut nipples.

She shivered, wanting him to do more. His erection was nestled perfectly between her butt cheeks. “Someone might catch us in here.”

“I don’t care. I want to touch you. I need to touch you.”

God, he made it so difficult to resist him. She answered him by cupping his face and pulling his face to hers. She kissed him, showing him.

He let her take charge for about five seconds then took over, ravishing her mouth, his tongue bold and commanding. His hand crept slowly down her thigh. The dress was no barrier to the heat from his hand. He reached the hem of her dress and touched her knee. Nikki sucked in her breath. He slipped under her sundress.

Nikki’s knees fell apart.

EDNAH WALTERS grew up reading Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys and dreaming of one day writing her own stories. She is a stay-at-home mother of five humans and two American short-hair cats (one of which has ADHD) and a husband. When she is not writing, she’s at the gym doing Zumba or doing things with her family, reading, traveling or online chatting with fans.

Ednah is the author of The Guardian Legacy series, a YA fantasy series about children of the fallen angels, who fight demons and protect mankind. AWAKENED, the prequel was released by Pill Hill Press in September 2010 with rave reviews. BETRAYED, book one in the series was released by her new publisher Spencer Hill Press in June 2012 and HUNTED, the third installment, will be released April 2013. She’s working on the next book in the series, FORGOTTEN. Visit her at

Ednah also writes YA paranormal romance. RUNES is the first book in her new series. IMMORTALS is book 2. She is presently working on book 3, GRIMNIRS (Release date TBA). Read more about this series and the world she's created here

Under the pseudonym E. B. Walters, Ednah writes contemporary romance. SLOW BURN, the first contemporary romance with suspense, was released in April 2011. It is the first book in the Fitzgerald family series. Since then she has published four more books in this series. She's presently working on book six. You can visit her online at or



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Friday, November 29, 2013

Cover Reveal: Promiscuous by Missy Johnson

Expected Release Date: January 2014 

When you're a twenty-year-old triple platinum singer you get an image.

Except mine was all wrong. On drugs; pregnant; fucking my manager.

But I wasn't; it was all lies. I was a good girl.

But now I'm done being the good girl, because it has gotten me nowhere.

I spent the last year in love with a guy who I was paying to fuck me.
A guy who fell in love with someone else.
But now I’m over it. Now it's about me.

If the world thinks I’m a bad girl, then hell, that’s what I’ll be.

I'll show them bad.

Let's find out how promiscuous I can be.


Missy lives in a small town in Central Victoria with her husband, and her confused pets (a dog who think she's a cat, a cat who thinks he's a get the picture).

When she's not writing, she can usually be found looking for something to read.



Thursday, November 28, 2013

Cover Reveal: Harper's Wish by Krista Ames

Harper’s Wish
A Montana Series Christmas Novella

Krista Ames

Christmas is supposed to be a joyous time of year, but for Harper Donaldson it’s just another day.  Orphaned at an early age, she doesn't have a single good memory of Christmas.

But, when a Santa’s Mailbox mysteriously appears in the lobby of the post office where she works as postmistress, Harper wonders what it could hurt to send her own letter to Santa.

Could he bring her the family she’d always wanted?

**Coming soon (tentatively Dec 20th) to Roane Publishing  **

About the Author:
Born and raised in Northern Indiana, Krista now resides in Northern Lower Michigan.  She is married to a very supportive man who allows her to follow her true passion of writing and never complains when she is pirated away on her computer for hours.    Krista is also a mother of 4 ornery children who keep her plenty busy.  With an addition of 2 beautiful chocolate lab sisters and a playful kitty, there is never a dull or spare moment in her household. 

Krista has always loved to read and would often sit up for hours into the night not able to put down a book until she was finished.  She still reads when she can but her main focus is creating her own stories to share with the world. 
She loves to communicate with her readers so please feel free to drop her a line anytime at or visit her at   or

The Ladies’ Cave

Book Tour: The Belgrave's Daughter by Zara Hoffman

Title: The Belgrave Daughter
Author: Zara Hoffman
Series: The Belgrave Legacy #1
Expected release date: November 25th, 2013
Category: Young Adult (YA)
Genre: Fantasy Romance

The Septemgeminus Prophecy states: "A powerful sorceress with blood laced in gold sevenfold shall determine the fate of the world."

Fawn Belgrave's magical powers are the coveted prize in a bet between God and the Devil.

When she meets Caleb, the dark angel assigned to seduce her, Fawn's life is turned upside down.

Zara Hoffman is a teen author. She spends most of her time doing homework and writing new stories. When she isn’t wrapped up in projects, Zara can be found relaxing with friends and family, listening to music, reading and writing, or playing with her dog, Riley.

Wednesday, November 27, 2013

Book Tour: Undertow (Undertow #1) by K.R. Conway

Undertow (Undertow #1)
Release Date: 10/18/13

Summary from Goodreads:
Luckless Eila is unknowingly the last of her kind: Rare. Gifted. Breakable. Stunning Raef is her kind's historic enemy: Soulless. Lethal. Lost. A legendary death 160 years before would set their lives to collide, forcing a beautiful killer to become a savior, a simple wallflower to become a warrior, and ruthless destiny to become a death sentence.
High school senior Eila Walker knows that good luck skips over her like an Easter Bunny on Speed. So when she inherits her grandmother's million-dollar Cape Cod home, she is downright shocked. And yeah, her new town isn't perfect: the cheerleaders are heinous clones, the local undertow can kill ya, and her Great Grams was supposedly fried by lightning in the harbor square. Still, Eila is hopeful her luckless days are in the past . . . until history decides to repeat itself.

A self-proclaimed loner and previous-social reject, Eila thinks she's hit the jackpot when drool-worthy Raef O’Reilly becomes her friendly, yet weirdly protective shadow. But being hauled beneath the waves by an unnatural undertow slams the brakes on bliss – especially when Raef storms to her aid with coal-black eyes and iron-like strength.

Eila, entirely freaked, demands an explanation and Raef comes clean, revealing that neither of them are average humans but rather the genetic remnants of an angelic pissing-match gone wrong. Eila supposedly can channel the power of human souls, while Raef is quite adept at stealing them. Even worse, the legend about her ancestor isn't such a myth, since Eila’s grandmother was one kick-ass warrior until her lightning-like power backfired. A power that is written all over Eila's DNA.

Now sought by Raef’s own family for her destructive ability, Eila must trust him to watch her back. But when a quest for information goes terribly wrong, Eila is suddenly left with only two options: become a weapon for the enemy or follow in her Gram’s fearless footsteps to save those she loves. Unfortunately she needs a willing enemy to ignite her suicidal energy and the only one she trusts has been guarding her butt and scorching her lips.


What readers are Saying:
WOrkS of FiCTioN – “All in all Undertow is a great book that not only keeps you guessing, but doesn't let you set it down. I loved the characters and their interactions and definitely hoping for a continuation of their story.” 

Reading Diva – “This series takes paranormal somewhere I haven’t been as a reader and I can’t wait to spend more time at the Cape or wherever Eila’s journey takes her. Do I recommend this book? Yes, Yes, Yes, and YES!” (TOP PICK winner) 

Book Talks by the Library Lady – “I could not put this one down!  Even when I needed to put it down, I had to almost immediately pick it back up.  It took mere hours for me to read this entire book and I am truly ticked that Eila's next story won't be published until
July 2014.  I don't want to wait for this story to continue! This is an addictive read.” 

About the Author
I have been a journalist for 15 years and serve on the Board of Directors for the Cape Cod Writers Center. I also drive a 16-ton school bus because I am ENTIRELY NUTS.
 In addition to working jobs that should come with a warning label, I hold a BA in Psychos (Forensic Psych), torment the tourists about Jaws, and occasionally jump from the Town Neck Bridge in an attempt to reclaim my youth. 
I live on Cape Cod with two smallish humans who apparently are my kids, my fishing- obsessed husband, two canines (adept at both flatulence and snoring), and a cage-defiant lovebird that sleeps in a miniature tent. Nope - that's not a type-o. The bird is quite the indoor camper.


2 – Signed print copies of Undertow (US only)
1 – ebook of Undertow (INT) 

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Spotlight: Chasing the Storm by Martin Molsted

Chasing the Storm 
by Martin Molsted

Title: Chasing the Storm
Author: Martin Molsted
Genre: Thriller (with a hint of mystery and a tiny dash of romance).
Publisher: EdgeRunner Publishing - Publisher 978-82-93316.

Publication date (eBook - Amazon world-wide): November 27th 2013. Other distributors will be announced in early 2014. Hardcover and Paperbacks also coming 2014.


Brief Excerpt from Chasing the Storm
Chapter 1: Orfeoplatz

April 9, 2009

He’d seen people die before, but never on a pretty afternoon in Hamburg.
Torgrim Rygg was walking to the bar he’d found near the Chilehaus and was halfway across the Orfeoplatz, when the pigeons suddenly clattered up and the woman walking towards him stopped, aghast. She put her hand to her throat and chewed, her eyes on his face, as though she recognized him and was trying to remember his name. She was middle-aged, with sturdy dyed-blonde hair and a stiff bosom cased in satin. She turned in a circle, staggering a little on her heels, and when she faced him again the top of her blouse was crimson. She was looking at him as she fell. Her handbag burst open, spilling lipstick, tampons and a glasses case onto the cobblestones. She kicked for a few seconds, as though she were still trying to walk, and then, with a gurgling whine, spewed a mouthful of blood and lay quiet.
In the immensely slow seconds that followed, he watched the runnels of blood grouting the cobblestones. Her hand had fallen away from her throat, and the blood beat from two holes, one on each side of the voicebox. And in that moment, he remembered the small sound just before the pigeons had scattered: a crisp tok. It was a sound he hadn't heard for twenty years, and one that sent a line of flame down each nerve.
Rygg glanced quickly around the square. He was the only person to have noticed the woman. A businessman strode past with his briefcase and a mother was fixing the strap on a stroller. Two couples were drinking coffee under an awning. Then, in the hoop of shadow that was the entrance to an alley, a darker clot detached from the wall. A mustached face caught the light for a moment, and then the figure vanished. Shouting, Rygg ran toward the alley, but it branched almost immediately into three smaller alleys. The figure was nowhere to be seen. He chose the left-hand branch at random and ran for a little way, his shoes making a huge racket off the walls, then stopped, gulping for air. His belly hurt. He leaned against the wall. Massaging his gut, he labored back to the square.
There was now a huge throng around the fallen woman, thirty people at least, jostling and craning. He couldn't imagine where they’d all come from. Four people were facing away from the crowd, talking on their cell phones and gesturing. The pigeons had settled at the edge of the square, on the steps of a church. Rygg just stood there, watching. He glanced around the square. On the far side, by a bank of flowers, a man sat with his back to a wall, arms crossed. Alone amongst the onlookers, he seemed unmoved by the commotion. Rygg narrowed his eyes, then he walked swiftly over to the man and crouched beside him. The man’s face was gaunt and gray, a stark contrast to the gaudy roses and carnations. He was clutching his upper arm so tightly the knuckles were white. Blood oozed between his fingers.
You've been shot,” Rygg stated.
The man just stared at him.
“I’ll get help,” Rygg said, but the man, with a grimace, stretched the hand of his wounded arm toward him.
“Please reach into the breast pocket of my shirt and take out my cigarettes,” he said. His accent was a little too rounded to be English, and his voice seemed far too steady for a man who’d just been shot. Rygg did as he asked. They were cheap Gauloises. The lighter was in the packet. He placed a cigarette between the man’s lips and lit it. 
“Now I’m going to get someone,” Rygg said.
“Please, sir, if you want to help me you will not do so.”
“Look, you've just been shot in the arm. You’re lucky you’re alive – that woman’s dead, I think.” He pointed back into the square. “But you need to stop the bleeding, get some stitches. I’ll stay with you if you need me.”
“You are a tourist?” the man asked unexpectedly.
“Yes. Well, here on business, but mixing it with some pleasure.”
“You are staying in a hotel?”
“The Crillon-Hapsburg. On—”
“Hasselbrookstrasse. I know it. Please. If you want to help me, take me to your room. For one hour, not more. You will be recompensed.”
“I’m not after money, I just . . . look, you need a doctor. You can’t just—”
The man turned to Rygg. His eyes were dark, the eyelids bruised by too much tobacco or too many late nights. He sucked on the cigarette, then took it out of his mouth and tapped the ash away. “This is an unusual request, I know,” he said. “I am going to ask you to trust me. If you want to help me, if you want to keep me out of danger, take me to your hotel room. For one hour only, I assure you. Then I will leave you alone.”
Rygg looked at him. Then he shrugged. “It’s your life, I suppose, but you’re bleeding all over the place.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out his handkerchief, and knotted it above the wound, pulling it tight.
The man nodded his thanks. With his bloody hand, he grabbed a bunch of red carnations from the plastic bucket beside him and clutched them to the wound. Rygg helped him up and led him around the block – avoiding the open space at the platz – holding his good arm by the crook like a lover.

            If the concierge thought it was strange that Rygg returned so soon, with a small, pale man bearing a bunch of carnations, he revealed it only in an excess of courtesy. He handed over the key with a smile and an inclination of the head.
In the room, the man handed the flowers to Rygg, who set them in the vase on the dresser, then followed him into the bathroom. He had shoved up his sleeve and was examining his arm. The bullet had gone through the meat just above the elbow.
“Did it get the bone?” Rygg asked, trying to remember what he’d learned about wound triage so many years ago. The man shook his head. He rinsed off the blood in the sink. His face was expressionless, but once, when he was running a finger around the rim of the hole, he stopped and placed his elbows on the sink and breathed hard for a few seconds.
“Can I—” Rygg started, but the man shook his head and continued cleaning. The skin around the entrance and exit wounds was bluish and swollen. Blood welled in the holes and dripped into the sink. It looked very dark, almost purple, against the white enamel. He turned to Rygg. “Do you have vodka?”
“Aquavit. I could use a drink myself. Ice? 7-Up?”
The man shook his head.
Rygg fetched the bottle of Løiten Linie’s and two glasses. He poured a couple fingers into a whiskey glass. “More,” the man said. Rygg poured the glass two-thirds full and handed it to him. But instead of drinking, he sloshed the aquavit across his arm, angling it so it entered the holes.
“Now,” he said, “many times in hotel rooms they have a little, how do you call it, a bag of sewing supplies. Needles, buttons.”
“Sewing kit. I've got one, actually, I think. Never used it. You’re not going to—?”
“May I use it?”
“Sure.” He rummaged in the exterior pockets of his luggage until he found the little kit, packed by his wife before the divorce. He didn't even know how to sew, but she’d said it might come in handy.
“Thread the largest needle for me,” said the man.
“What color?”
“Any color. White.” He took the needle and dropped it into the aquavit, coiling the thread in after it. He dabbled his fingers in the aquavit, then fished the needle out. Sitting on the toilet, he began to sew the hole on the far side of his forearm closed, bending to the wound and working carefully.
Rygg sat on the edge of the bathtub and watched. “That’s not very sanitary,” he said. “I’d see a doctor if I were you.” The man didn't answer. After a while, he rinsed the needle in the glass and asked Rygg to put on another length of thread.
Still bent over the wound, the man said, “You are not English.”                           
“Norwegian. I worked in London for five years, though. Yourself?”
“At this time, the less you know about me the better.”
When he was done he was all bloody again, and he washed himself off in the sink once more. The wounds were closed with little pursed lines of stitches. The man loosened the handkerchief tourniquet with his teeth and pushed it down over the wounds. He slid the needle into the towel, then he took out his wallet and handed it to Rygg. It was ancient, fissured black leather. “Open it,” he instructed. The wallet contained about a thousand euros, in fifty-euro bills. “You will leave me fifty euros,” the man said.
“No,” said Rygg. “I’m not taking any money.”
“I am buying your suit jacket. You will leave me fifty euros, please, and take the rest of the money.”
Rygg put the wallet on the edge of the sink and slipped out of his jacket. He helped the man into it. It was much too big, and he rolled up the sleeves, as if he was helping a child get dressed. “Do you know who it was?” he asked.
“Who the man was. The man who shot you.”
“That is of no importance. Listen. Take the money. But please, if people come asking questions, you know nothing. Not my name, not where I am from. I told you nothing. Tell them the truth.”
“I’m not taking your money. If you need anything . . .” Rygg put the wallet in the pocket of the suit jacket and patted the man’s shoulder. He could feel his bones through the cloth.
“You have already helped me more than you can imagine. I give you my thanks. And now you can assist me, sir, by not contacting anybody about this incident, or even telling your friends about it.” And suddenly the man was looking straight at him.
Rygg shrugged. “No problem.”
The man gave a short, decisive nod. “I thank you again.” Sluicing the blood out of the sink, he ran his palm around the basin several times, then held his hands under the running water for a full minute. He was shivering slightly.
“Sit for a minute,” Rygg said. “Do you want a drink?”
The little man shook his head. And suddenly he was out the door and Rygg was left staring at the enormous whorls of the carnations in the vase. He picked up the bottle to pour himself some more aquavit, and suddenly his hand was shaking so that he had to set the bottle down. He thought he heard shouts in Arabic, like echoes from the past, but when he raised his head, there was just a ragged cacophony of car horns from the street outside.
Slapp av, Torgrim. Relax,” he told himself. He poured the glass a third full and made it to the bed. He switched on the television. Some German variety show. A man in a tuxedo seemed to be trying to get a woman to take off her shirt. He flicked through the channels until he got something in English. More about that ship in the Baltic – the hijackers had apparently abandoned it, but now the ship had disappeared. The Alpensturm. The announcer pointed to a map with a dotted line tracing the ship’s passage, and he saw Hamburg, just below the announcer’s wand, nestled in its web of channels. He flicked through until he found an old Hollywood movie – Bogart and Bacall squabbling about something – and sat sipping his aquavit and shaking his head. It seemed like sometime last year that he had been walking through the Orfeoplatz on his way to a quiet drink. In his memory, the platz before that soft, crisp tok had an entirely different texture from the platz following the shooting, when everything moved so slowly and seemed so bright.
Should he call the police? Tell them about the woman at least, about the shadow in the alley? He shook his head. People die all the time. It wasn't that big a deal. If he sat here sipping his aquavit for a while, everything would be all right. But he found it hard to concentrate on what the actors were saying. He stared out the window, at the ornate facades across the street. After a while, he opened the balcony doors and went and leaned on the railing. He was still shaking his head.

Did you enjoy this excerpt?

Author Bio:

Chasing the Storm is Martin Molsted's debut novel, although he has been actively engaged in writing shorter fiction, as well as screenplays since 2009. When he is not working as an Archivist in a Fortune 500 engineering company, he writes fiction and non-fiction.
He enjoys playing music, singing, travelling, nice food, great wine, tasty beer, hot rods and awesome custom built motorcycles.
Martin Molsted lives in Asker, a small town between the greater cities Oslo and Drammen, in eastern Norway. He lives together with his French wife and their two daughters. No cats. No dogs.
He is currently working on the storylines for a trio of further Rygg & Marin thrillers, so stay tuned for more compelling and intriguing action.
Find out more about Martin Molsted and his works of fiction at , ,  , or Twitter @molsted.

See what other readers are saying about Chasing the Storm:

"…An intelligent thriller…"
"…Realistic Thriller Delivers…"
"…Fun read!,.."
"…Interesting story, enthralling characters..."
"…Outstanding Thriller…"
"…A high-octane adventure…"
"…Real page-turning thriller,…"

Join Martin at  to get the three first chapters for free (pdf)! You can also read a longer excerpt at Amazon: .