Thursday, October 31, 2013

Book Blitz and Giveaway: The Howling Heart by April Bostic

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SONY DSC                       THE HOWLING HEART

Publisher: Eternal Press

Publication Date: August 1, 2013

Paige Donovan is an ambitious college graduate who aspires to reach the top of the corporate ladder. She’s climbing fast when given the promotion of a lifetime at a prestigious fashion magazine in New York City. Her bright future comes to an unexpected halt after news of her father’s death. She inherits his old cabin in the Colorado Rockies, and just when she thinks her luck couldn't get any worse, she has a car accident in the mountains and awakens in the small, remote community of Black River.

Soon, she’s engulfed in the mystical world of Varulv---wolves descended from 13th century Scandinavia and blessed by Norse gods with the ability to appear human. Paige is desperate to return home, but never expects to fall for her rescuer, Riley Gray, a charming young werewolf from England who offers her an alternate future with his pack.

Now, she must choose between the career she’s always wanted and the love she’s always dreamed.







April Is giving away a $20 Amazon or B&N gift card, and an eBook copy of The Howling Heart to one lucky winner.

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April Bostic is a New Jersey-based, Adult Romance author who enjoys unleashing her creativity and letting her imagination run wild. Her love of romance books inspired her to become not just a reader, but also a writer. In December 2008, she self-published her first novel, a contemporary romance with a supernatural twist entitled "A Rose to the Fallen".
Her first short story, "Right Here, Right Now", released in January 2012, is an erotic romance with a dash of S&M. The following year, she released two more short stories: a romantic urban fantasy inspired by the Greek myth of Eros and Psyche entitled "Eros, My Love", and a sexy romantic comedy entitled "Love Addiction".
After five years, she released her second novel, "The Howling Heart" in August 2013, a paranormal romance that delves into the mystical world of werewolves and Norse gods. To end her busiest year in publishing, April will release her fourth and final short story in December, a historical vampire romance entitled "A Dark Scandal".

Author contact links:

Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Book Blitz and Giveaway: Don’t Just Speak Love by Chalie Teh

Tour Banner - Dont Just Speak Love TITLE– Don’t Just Speak Love AUTHOR– Chalie Teh GENRE – YA Paranormal, Romance, Fantasy, Contemporary, Family, Action PUBLICATION DATE – October, 2013 PUBLISHER – Indie COVER ARTIST Damonza Book Cover - Dont Just Speak Love BOOK BLURB/SYNOPSIS Eighteen-year-old Averie’s life is turned upside-down when she’s instructed by her long-missing mother to enroll in an international college despite her being a local. Soon after, Averie discovers she is a nephilim—part human part angel—and her young life drastically changes from awfully droning to incomprehensibly hectic as she juggles college work, bullying, demanding training sessions with a surprising fit seventy-year-old, family issues, and the one thing she’s most skeptical of: love. When adults in her life don't fulfill their rightful responsibilities, she’s forced to take those neglected responsibilities into her own hands and set everyone’s life back on the right track. With the aid of a special Japanese classmate Sasuke, and a fiercely determined and righteous attitude, will Averie be strong enough to overcome the challenges in her difficult adolescence?       BUY LINKS AMAZON KINDLE / SMASHWORDS / GOODREADS   AUTHOR BIO Chalie Teh lives in Singapore—a sunny island in Southeast Asia, which occupies only a little red dot on the world map. She is twenty-one this year and mum to a perfect Shih Tzu dog called Blythe. STALKER LINKS FACEBOOK / TWITTER / GOODREADS GIVEAWAY
  • 10 eBook Copies of Don’t Just Speak Love Ebook
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Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Book Blitz and Giveaway: The Temple of Indra’s Jewel by Rachael Stapleton

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clip_image002The Temple of Indra’s Jewel

Rachael Stapleton

Genre: Fiction/Fantasy/Romance

Publisher: iUniverse, LLC

ISBN: 978-1-4917-0223-9

ISBN: 978-1-4917-0224-6

ISBN: 978-1-4917-0225-3

Number of pages: 274

Word Count: 75,279

Book Description:

Sophia Marcil awakens from a snorkeling accident in the Lérins Islands to find herself in the chambers—and the body—of a nineteenth-century princess.

In a confused state and with no idea of her whereabouts, Sophia embarks on a desperate quest for answers, hoping she can find her way back to her fiancé, Nick, and her true identity.

After she finds a diary in an antique desk, Sophia follows a clue that leads her to a questionable alchemist, who relays the history and magic of the mysterious amethyst she inherited from her greatgrandmother— the only possession that made the leap through time with her and perhaps the only thing that can prevent her from becoming a pawn in a murderous plot for the throne.

Using her inheritance, Sophia races through time to the twenty-first century to solve the mystery of her family’s past.

But once she is there, she unearths a dire warning about a curse that clings to her heirloom, leading her down a dangerous path involving two men from different times and ultimately puts her life at risk.

In this tale of obsession, greed and passion, a woman on a journey through time struggles to regain a family heirloom and control its magic, hoping to break the curse before it breaks her.



The sound of heavy footsteps and a feeling of dread overtook me as I woke. A deep humming nagged at my ears and I burrowed deeper into my cocoon of quilts. The door opened and a strong musk stung my nostrils. Go away! I thought shaking my head to clear it as the bed sunk under the strain of company. All the movement was too much and a wave of nausea that could knock over a sailor rolled in.

I swallowed it back down. “Nick,” I whispered attempting to grasp my bearings. What happened?”

His hand stroked my hair before trailing slowly to my ribs, making me very aware of the thin fabric tangled at my waist. As I peeked one eye open, my vision blurred and my eyes stung as if filled with salt."

“Nick,” I repeated. What happened?”

His hand caressed my nipples, first one and then the other, which responded against my better judgment. This wasn’t the time for foreplay, I thought. My head throbbed and the room spun as I attempted to sit up.

“The cavern,” I started to say.

“Shhh,” he soothed laying me back down. I was so damn weak.

“Tell me!” I said pushing back at him.

I’d been the first to jump off the boat and head for the reef. Was that only this morning? It felt like a lifetime ago when I’d noticed the deep dark shadows of an abyss off in the distance. I remembered suddenly finding myself over top of it and thinking how’d I get over here so fast? There’d no longer been any fish around me, and I had marveled at how surreal it was to swim over a cliff. That’s when I had seen the metallic light radiating from below. I tried to recall what happened next and pushed my memory to the brink. I remembered sunshine, finding my breath… popping up…

My sinus’s burned and my eyeballs felt like they’d burst out of my head bringing me back to reality and the fact that Nick was still touching me. I ignored him and opened my eyes again, forcing them to focus. There were delicate diamond panes of glass in the windows, floral patterns on the walls and dolls on a shelf.

“Sapphira ma fleur, réveillez-vous.” Nick’s voice surprised me, pulling me out of my reverie as he slipped the blanket down to expose my thighs.

I grabbed for it and pulled it back up to my waist shivering. “Nick, where are we?”

“Nous avons inachevé!” He continued cooing in my ear. I closed my weary eyes, my mind searching, trying to make sense of his voice and touch. He usually didn’t speak French unless we were with his dad’s friends.

His voice grew deep and menacing as he switched to English and stood up.

“Sapphira! You try my patience. Stop playing.”

I looked up but I could only make out a dark figure looming over me, pacing back and fourth. “I can’t see you. There’s something wrong with my sight.”

When I didn’t respond further he tweaked my nipple hard.

“Owww!” I howled, opening my eyes just in time to watch his blurry shadowed form disappear from the room.

Where’s he going? What’s gotten into him today?

I swung my legs over the side of the bed to chase after him but nothing seemed familiar or right. This was not our Villa. Where was I? How did I get here? I remembered wandering up the hill. Oh my god! He’d proposed!

Wrapping a blanket tight to my chest to ward off the chill, I staggered out of bed and across the room. The nausea was overwhelming and I leaned my forehead against the cold marble of an oversized fireplace, trying to dredge up what had happened. We’d found ourselves on the backside of the island gazing out over the cliff. That must be his problem. His dad wanted us to join the family business in Europe. But I’d said no. And he lost it!

I gripped the mantle tighter. What had happened next?

I remembered walking away from him to catch my breath, that’s when I noticed that same metallic spinning in the water below.

Suddenly I was hurdling towards it.

Dizziness overtook me.

I opened my eyes to get away from the memory, bracing myself and stared down into the face of an ugly Marie-Antoinette-looking doll lying in a basket. The eyes bulged.

Had I fallen?

If so, this was a pretty strange hospital. I ran my hands over my face and head. No cuts, although I did feel bruised, nauseous and dizzy.

As I contemplated that, a crescendo of tiny knocks rapped at the door. I quickly returned to the bedside just in time to see a petite dark haired girl poke her head in.

“Oh good, mademoiselle, you’re up. Are you feeling any better?” She signaled behind her and two additional women marched in, opening the drapes, unfolding a food tray and handing me a cup of hot broth.

“Please, tell us what ‘appened?” her tiny french voice cracked with excitement.

I moved to the window sipping my broth, feeling extremely alien as they began to make the bed and assemble garments.

“Who are you?”

“Chloe.” She said looking affronted.

I ignored her and gazed out the French doors at the expanse of blue water. The Villa must be built on a cliff. Then it came to me.

Nick had grabbed me by the neck and leaned me back over the Island’s edge on Sainte Marguerite. I tried to reach for his chest, to pull myself in, then I clawed at his hands to loosen his grip so I could breathe, but as I squirmed I forgot the edge. Loose rocks gave way beneath me. My balance wavered and Nick let go. It was like a bad dream, falling in slow motion. I hit the water with a thud and it drove a terrible stinging up my nose. I struggled to swim. My lungs wanted to explode with panic. I drifted deeper. And then suddenly, I just relaxed as the strange magnetic lights encompassed me.

“The water, I was d-r-r-owning. Did I wash up here?” I sputtered, confused, almost like an amnesia patient.

Chloe paused slightly giving the other lady a strange look. “You were found floating in the sea.”

How could Nick have done that? He must have at least dived in and saved me ‘cause here I was alive, or at least partially alive. I felt like death. I remembered it all so clearly now. We’d gone snorkeling at the Lérins islands just off the coast near Cannes.

Had I washed up on shore somewhere along the French Riviera? Or were there other islands, perhaps a private island.

Yes that was it! This was some eccentric’s mansion and that explained the room.

“What were you doing at the rivage de la mer?” Chloe asked, interrupting my reverie.

“Give her a moment to collect herself,” scolded the tall thin maid with the pinched face. “She has just awakened and she probably desires to catch her breath, no?”

“Sorry Anais.”

“Lisabetta, come look at the nasty bruise on her head.” Anais motioned rapidly for the older lady to come over.

They all stepped closer, examining my head.

“It’s nothing. Retour au travail.” Lisabetta said in a mixture of French and Italian. Isn’t that right, mia cara?”

“But, mademoiselle, how?” Chloe questioned, before seeing the old woman’s face.

“Taisez-vous!” Lisabetta shouted.

Chloe quickly clapped a hand over her mouth as Lisabetta grabbed her wrist and ushered her out into the hall.

They returned a moment later all smiles.

“Well now, Signorina, you are safe, thanks to that handsome Graf of Württemberg. Let’s take care to get you dressed so the house can move on.”

She reminded me of someone else, someone else feisty I should have remembered, but my mind was a jumbled mass of confusion. I walked through the fog remembering odd things and yet having no context for them and blanking on other things right in front of me.

It took me a little by surprise when Lisabetta threw my arms up and Anais yanked the nightie over my head.

“What the hell are you doing?” I said quickly throwing my hands over my breasts or at least the nipples. My hands weren’t quite big enough to cover everything.

“Mademoiselle?” Anais questioned.

“Give me that!” I screeched yanking for the nightgown as Anais stepped back out of my reach.

“Who are you and where the hell is Nick?”

I was not a shy person, but I was not used to being stripped by strangers.

Anais looked panicked, glancing from Lisabetta to me.

“Leave her,” Lisabetta said calmly.

I wrapped the nightgown around me like a towel and marched over to the door that I had seen Nick exit through. Where had he gone?

Then it occurred to me to be afraid. What if Nick hadn’t jumped in after me? What if I washed up somewhere alone?

My hands were cold but sweaty as I clutched the knob. For a moment, I forgot the chill running down my spine, and regarded my hand as though it belonged to someone else: blue veins were visible through delicate flesh. My hands, yet much paler.

A small measure of comfort tugged at my heart as I noticed Gigi’s ring. The panther sparkled, covered in purple jewels with startling emerald eyes.

“Should I call for the doctor?” Anais asked.

“No.” Lisabetta clucked disapprovingly. “He’ll put her out again.”

“Put me out?”

Lisabetta nodded, reaching a hand towards the nightgown I clutched around my body.

“Why are you dressing me?”

“Dinner,” Lisabetta said, motioning to Chloe. “The dress from the back of the door and bring the brooch.”

“Dinner? Don’t you people have a cocktail dress?” I said eyeing the three quarter length sleeves and scoop neckline. “I’m not going to dinner.” My stomach took this inopportune moment to lurch. “Where’s Nick?”

Lisabetta raised her eyebrow. “Waiting downstairs at dinner.”

“Oh, thank god.” I said, grabbing the dress from her hands. “Why do I have to wear such a fancy dress? Is it some sort of costume party?”

“Party. Yes.” Anais smiled.

I eyed her suspiciously.

“Fine. I’ll wear it,” I said, motioning for them to turn around before bending to step into it. “I guess I can’t wear my bikini.”

I stood up straight surrounded by a sea of bronzed gold. The material may have been made of soft silk but the crinoline underneath felt itchy. The girls instantly went to my back tugging and squeezing until my boobs bulged out the top.

“Oh god, ouch, what is that sticking into me?”

“A corset, the usual.”

The usual for who, I thought to myself, masochists?

She continued on, nipping and tucking me in as she yanked the laces tighter. I let out an exasperated moan and Anais smiled up at me.

“Euhhhh, have no fear Mademoiselle, we will get you into it, no?” She was soon squeezing me so tight I thought I might pass out. Never mind the near drowning, this would be death by corset. They stood back, surveying their handiwork with satisfaction.

“One last thing.” Anais said pushing a powder puff into my face.

“Sei bellissima!” Lisabette smiled and pinched my cheek.

“Oui, très belle!” Agreed Anais.

I huffed, allowing Lisabetta to pinch me one last time. “Can we please go to Nick now?”

“Of course,” Anais said, opening the door in a motion for me go.

They both just stood there.

“Could one of you lead the way?” My patience was wearing thin.

Lisabetta looked from Anais to me and then waved her hand.

“Of course.” Lisabetta said, before leading me through a dozen multi-coloured chambers. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Ornamental pillars, tapestries, vaulted ceilings and sparkly chandeliers. This place was really something. Eventually the space opened up into an enormous hall with elaborate cross ribs arching high above in an elegant spider’s web shape. As she led me toward the front of the room I was welcomed by a man and a woman similarly dressed in costumes befitting a ball.

“There you are!” The older woman said. Her face held a faint pomegranate tone, perhaps reflected off the red of her gown, which set off her dark hair. I could feel curious glances boring into my back. I assumed from the shifty eyes and snippets of whispers that they were garrulous and gossipy.

“Princess Maria.” A woman in green flew up to her interrupting us, curtsying before her. “And Comte de Chalais,” she said before kissing the man on both cheeks in an overdramatized fashion.

I gaped openly at the trio.

“Thank you so much for inviting us.” She chirped turning back to the woman.

“Don’t thank me. It was Henri’s suggestion.”

I turned away, flushed, and glanced around the room. Three long tables were arranged to make three sides of a square. There were some twenty people set to eat, and perhaps another seven to serve. Panic shot through me like a bolt of lightning. I didn’t see Nick anywhere but I did notice a devastatingly tall, handsome man staring at me. His skin was olive and he had the most amazing, serious, greenish-brown eyes. Our gaze locked as we took stock of one another. He was not entirely clean shaven and although his hair was trimmed, it curled in shining blue-black ringlets.

“And look at this lovely, exotic creature. Is this your daughter?” The woman in green asked, pulling me back to the conversation at hand.

I waited for the woman in red, Princess Maria, to correct her and usher me to Nick, but instead she nodded and put her hand on my shoulder. “Yes, this is the fair Princess.”

My heart began to pound. I pulled away and turned on her. “Don’t touch me. Where is Nick?”

I heard whispers and gasps ripple through the crowd.

“Sapphira,” she whispered.

I took a step back, realizing all eyes were looking our way.

“Why are you saying my name like that? It’s Sophia.”

“It’s alright.” She smiled and turned towards a tall, plain, skinny woman with black hair and cold blue eyes that froze me to my bones. “Gabrielle, call for the doctor. She’s had a bump on the head.”

“What? Give me the phone. I need to call my hotel.”

The woman scurried through the crowd, returning with a silver haired gentleman.

“Please forgive her,” Maria expressed to the room. “Perhaps we allowed her out of bed too soon.”

No one moved.

I caught my reflection in a gilded floor length mirror. It was me and yet it wasn’t. Pale, with rosy red, plump lips and something else wasn’t right. I marched closer, realizing my hair was the colour of toast—a mane full of curly blonde ringlets that shone in a rippling sheet of gold almost to my waist. I studied the reflection. The sun couldn’t have lightened it that much. They dyed my hair and possibly permed it! What the hell was going on here?

Chapter Two

“What are you people playing at?” I turned back to the mirror, my pale creamy complexion mocking me. “This had better wash out,” I said holding up a lock.

"Why is she being so silly?" Maria whined loud enough for me to overhear. "I don't like this."

"I don’t either, your highness," Gabrielle said, eyeing me from across the room.

"When will Charles be back?” Maria said and frowned.

“We haven’t heard yet.”

"Have you heard any further news from Menton?”

Gabrielle shook her head. “No, only that Roquebrune has joined them in their revolt and will soon declare themselves independent."

“I handed the power over to Charles too late and now his efforts are doomed. If only Florestan had been more of a leader. I’m feeling melancholy. Where’s Nico?”

My ears perked up at the sound of the name. It wasn’t Nick but perhaps that was his stage name during this little game.

“He should deal with- ” She paused waving her limp wrist at me as if I were a mess to be swept from the floor. “this.”

“He’s not here. He’s handling the Roquebrune situation, your highness. Give me permission to deal with your daughter.”

“Excellent idea.”

Gabriella turned to me, a look of satisfaction brimming over. I tilted my head defiantly.

“What Roquebrune situation? Get me to Nick now!” I demanded.

“Get hold of yourself.” She said, disdain pulling at the corners of her mouth.

“I will not! Get me Nick.”

“Perhaps you need another shot.”

“No, I don’t need anything except for Nick.”

“Would you like me to give her something to sleep?” The silver haired man rifled through his black bag.

“No. I’m fine. I’ll co-operate. Please. Please don’t drug me.” I begged.

The silver haired man looked to Gabrielle and then to Maria who nodded and turned to whisper to me in hushed tones. “I know you’ve sustained quite the bump, but no more outbursts, Sapphira, or you’ll be put to bed.”

I glanced around the room. All eyes continued to stare at me. Perhaps I’d better play along for the moment.


The eyes began to turn away and the chatter rose once again as Maria took my arm introducing me to several people as if nothing happened. As the introductions went on, I realized everyone believed I was this other woman, this Princess Maria’s daughter. I couldn’t help but wonder where this Princess Sapphira really was and why everyone was content to believe this little charade. But then again, everyone had a title or so it seemed and I concluded that this was some sort of murder mystery game or costume theatre and they had somehow decided I should play a role. Why they thought this would be fun was unbeknownst to me, but the only introduction I cared about was Graf Viktor Wilhelm Alexander Ferdinand of Württemberg who stood about six foot two and had apparently rescued me from drowning the night before. This was the tall, dark and handsome stranger who stared at me earlier.

He was very attractive although in a rugged sort of way, not the type you'd like to meet alone, unless of course you were drowning. His green eyes shone, sweeping the room with a noble expression before settling back on me.

“Prinzessin, it is an honor to be in your company tonight.” He raised my hand to his lips, but his eyes did not linger long with mine under the scrutiny of Gabrielle. My hand dropped, burning, to my side, and my cheeks flamed to match. I longed to get him into a corner alone so we could drop the act, and I could find out what the hell really happened, but Gabrielle remained glued to my side. I discovered that Viktor was visiting a neighbouring cousin when I turned up face down on the shore. The topic, much to my dismay, was changed almost instantly, and I was itching to know why he had deposited me here with these crazy people. The humming in my ears had finally stopped and I could hear clearly although at times I wished I couldn’t. They all spoke so formally and many seemed to be visiting from different countries. It seemed odd that so many would travel for a dinner theatre but the rich could be eccentric.

“How charming you look tonight, Sapphira,” interrupted the Comte de Chalais steering me away, “You will have some wine, won't you?"

It was a redundant question as the wine was already poured in a crystal goblet that stood on the table. It glowed like a bauble in the candlelight. I flashed on a hazy memory of a large shiny gem but the image escaped me as quickly as it had come. He handed the glass to me, following my gaze back to the Graf.

“You are quite taken with him?”

I snorted unattractively, “Where’s Nick?”

“Nico? Why would you ask after him?”

“I’m sorry. I realize you’re playing some sort of costume theatre here, which apparently you all take super seriously, but I don’t appreciate being pulled into this. Please have someone take me back to that room and send Nick in while you play your game!” As an afterthought I added “And perhaps afterwards if you would be so gracious as to explain how the hell we’re getting back to our resort.”

Gabrielle signaled one of the armed guards and I was then escorted back to the room I’d awoken in.

Thank goodness, they’d finally listened.

The ladies quickly appeared and helped me strip the heavy costume and left again, promising to return and settle me into a bath. I stood staring at the familiar stranger in the mirror, and my eyes settled on the curve of my breasts. The chill in the air had forced my nipples to stand at attention and gooseflesh now covered my arms.

A knock sounded at the door.

Nick, I thought. "Come in," I said, turning towards the door as it opened and Henri, the Comte de Chalais sauntered in stiffly holding a china cup.

"I'm sorry to interrupt ma chère. I just came to bring you a tea and make sure you were alright.” I looked at the cup in his hand feeling awkward at my nakedness.

I quickly pulled the shear robe over my shoulders. It wouldn’t do much but it was close and handy.

“You seem to be having a difficult time recovering from the bump on the head.”

I was speechless that these people were so wrapped up in this delusion.

Setting the cup down, he turned and patted my hand. “Are you feeling any better?"

"No. I’m sorry. I don’t understand, why the charade? I realize I bumped my head when I fell at Marguerite Island and I must have washed up on your shore. But I don’t get why you people refuse to call me by the correct name or let me see Nick. Have you even contacted the police?”

Henri placed his hand on my forehead.

“Maybe I should get Gabrielle or call the doctor back in.”

“I’m serious. I don’t know if this Sapphira is a character in your play or a real person and I don’t know what happened to her for that matter, but I’m not her.”

“You’re probably just still a little woozy from all the wine."

“Why don’t you believe me?” It was little more than a whisper as I pulled my robe tighter around me.

"Sapphira, Please stop with this charade,” he said looking into my eyes, tilting my chin up. It won’t bring your brother home any sooner and it only makes you look spoiled."

The frustration boiled within me and I didn’t know whether to scream or cry. Tears involuntarily flooded my eyes.

"And of course a good night's sleep will help.”

As he drew me in for a hug, I thought of kicking him and running for the door, but I had seen guards earlier and this Palace was filled with halls. Before I knew it, the moment was lost as he squeezed me tight and let me go.

I stood stock-still, feeling the hair prickle on the back of my neck. So many things weren’t making sense. Why were they keeping Nick from me?

I cursed myself for screaming earlier. Had Nick taken off? I returned to the door I’d hastily seen him exit through. What if it hadn’t been Nick this morning? Pressing my lips together, I forced myself to breathe through my nose so my raspy breaths couldn’t be heard. My heart hammered as I flung the door wide open, preparing for a shock. Much to my surprise, it was actually a sitting room or dressing room. I felt for the light switch but had no luck.

The only other door led to a bathroom where candles flickered on a marble washbasin casting shadows across the salmon wallpaper.

The tub was filled with water. I stuck my hand in, hot. This must be the bath they promised to return and settle me into. I waited a few minutes to make sure there would be no other surprise visitors and then disrobed once again climbing into the claw-foot tub. While soaking my aching limbs I found myself thinking about the Graf. I couldn’t help but imagine him rescuing me. I mentally smacked myself. I needed to focus on getting the hell out of here and back to Antibes. Nick must have called the police by now; they would be looking for me, wouldn’t they? And yet I couldn’t help but let my mind once again drift to the Graf. Had he seen what happened? Did he watch me fall? Perhaps I could convince him of my identity after all. He was my best shot. A visitor to this odd little island, probably only here for that dinner theatre.

Heading back through the dressing room, an extravagant armoire caught my eye. It was a long shot but maybe there were some normal pajamas stored in there. I saw a row of ball gowns fit to grace the courts of Versailles. Where were the jeans, t- shirts and sundresses?

As I fingered the richly embroidered gown, I shivered at the draft blowing in, and noted there was no zipper. Quickly checking three of them, I realized none of them had zippers. Fondling the material between my thumb and forefinger, it occurred to me that these dresses were authentic. Why would someone need authentic 19th-century dresses like these and why so many unless their whole life was a costume party? Where the hell was I?

I walked to the antique desk by the fireplace, pulling the first drawer open hard and fast, surprising myself as it hit the floor with a thud. A piece of wood went flying, and I realized I knocked out a small compartment. Rubbing my fingers along the back I discovered a panel that could be removed, a small, leather bound book was hidden inside. The pages were dense with large, scripted writing. I flipped inquisitively; it appeared to be some sort of diary. I turned back to the first page and noted the initials, S.M in the upper right hand corner. My initials, but clearly not my book. I flipped to the middle and glanced at a passage dated 1857.

Panic flutters in my chest now day and night. Charles is still absent and Mother threatens to join him on his travels to quell the political upheaval we are faced with. I pray desperately to join. I do not wish to be left behind with the snake lurking.

I placed the book back in the desk and left the room, rounding the corner at the end of the hall, running into the Graf just as he was about to enter another doorway.

“Viktor, I’m so glad to see you again.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I thought you’d retired for the night.”

“No. Are you staying?”

“Your mother suggested I spend the night. I’m going hunting in the morning with your Uncle Nico and the Comte, and I look forward to seeing you at dinner again.”

“Uncle Nico. Who is this man?”

"Pardon?” Viktor said.

“Nevermind. Why did you bring me here when you found me?”

“What do you mean? Why did I return you to the Palace? You’re displeased?”

I frowned, shaking my head, unsure how to explain.

“No. Yes. It’s complicated. I found this cavern in the sea-”


I tried to think. “Today or yesterday”. I paused. “I don’t even know what day it is.”

“You’re being serious?”

“Yes, if you’ll just let me finish. In the sea there is this-”

“Do you think me a fool, Princessin?” Viktor interrupted.

“No, of course not.”

“Then you’re telling me you swim alone in the sea and that’s permissible?"

I forced my chin up. “This isn’t coming out right. I’m not from here. Why do you think I belong in this Palace?”

“I apologize, Princessin. I think I am not understanding your English as well as I thought I did.”

“No. You’re doing fine. You understand just fine. They’re lying. They think I’m this Princess but I’m not. I think they’ve done something to her and now they’re trying to replace her with me.”

“Are you feeling alright? You’re still confused?”

“Oh nevermind.” I said pushing past him.

“Wait!” I heard him call after me.

Running now, I came to the end of another hall with a staircase leading up. Noises came from behind me. I hurried up the stairs, and as I approached the landing, I saw a door at the top. Good, somewhere to hide. Then I heard the rumble of two male voices from behind it.

Damn it! I was trapped. Excitement bubbled in my chest as the women’s voices grew closer. It sounded like Viktor had alerted someone to my hasty departure.

I hurried all the way to the top, pausing outside the door, removing myself from sight as they passed by. I was so worried about the ladies catching me that I almost missed the conversation...

"Does she remember anything?”

“She doesn’t appear to. What did you do to her?”

My pulse quickened at the words.

“Nothing, I swear. I was only trying to catch her as you ordered, my lord.”

“Either you’re lying or she’s playing one of her games. Why does she have to be so disagreeable, Enzo? Just like her father. That chamber exists somewhere in this godforsaken fortress and, by God, I will find it."

"You will find it.”

“I just said that!” he snapped. “That treasure hunting bastard, Ferris. He gave that stone to the old fool to protect. If only I could find them; imagine what I could do? I’ve tracked them too long to give up now.”

I stepped softly back from the door, turning to go, but the next few words grabbed my attention.

“Sapphira knows where it is. I’ve caught her disappearing into rooms and surfacing in others since she was small. Both her father and brother took her into their confidence. If only I could force her to trust me.”

“It’s past time she had a husband, my lord,” said Enzo. “Demand her hand then she’ll be forced to tell you.”

"Her brother is the problem. I’ll have to deal with him as I dealt with the old man."

A lump formed in my throat. Someone was now pacing and I realized they might soon exit and catch me.

I turned and rushed down the corridor fighting hysteria the entire time. What was going on around here?

Anais came out of a room just as I approached.

“There you are.” She smiled.

“Anais,” I said, panting. “What is the name of this island?”

“Island? Princess, I fear you’re not getting any better. I’m going to call Monsieur.”

“No, and why are you still calling me that? Please Anais, I fell into the sea at Marguerite Island and I know I’ve washed up somewhere else. I realize you could get in trouble for breaking character in this crazy play but please tell me where I am?”


“Well that makes sense.” Thank God! Monaco’s not far from the island. I just need to find a phone. I began to ponder the costumes just as Anais clarified.

“I call you that because you are the Princess of Monaco.”

I stared at her, dumbfounded.

“See for yourself,” she said leading me down the hall.

Curious, I followed her into a room which appeared to be a library or study of some sort. Another lantern sat on yet another fireplace. Where was the electricity? My eyes darted upwards above where she now stood in front of a large gilt-framed portrait.

She came to my side, and my jaw dropped.

At first glance it was as though I stood in front of that mirror again at the party. The woman in the painting could have been me—well, me as I looked right now.

“Do you remember now, Madamoiselle? This was just done at the first of the year.”

“And what year would that be, Anais?”

“Why, 1857 of course, your highness.”


$20 Giftcard and a copy of The Temple of Indra's Jewel

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Rachael Stapleton grew up in a small town, writing as a hobby until the age of sixteen when she was given the opportunity to pen a column for the Orono Weekly Times. Today she is a dedicated writer who contributes to a weekly writer’s circle and is also a proud member of the Writer’s Community of Durham Region.

Rachael lives in Ontario, Canada, with her husband and two children.


Monday, October 28, 2013

Boo Blitz and Giveaway: BLOOD TIES, Khet Chronicles, #1 by Marcus Twyman

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Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000446_00069]


Khet Chronicles, #1

Kalin Moshire and his stepbrother Shane, struggle to survive in a hidden society of people known as the Khet.

They are hunted, not only because Kalin is the last of his lineage and therefore the rightful heir to the throne, but also because of his brother, Shane's heritage. Shane is the only living hybrid, a link between the Khet and the normal human's known as Sapes. There are many Khet that will stop at nothing to keep their bloodlines "pure".

From the cozy suburbs of Montgomery County, Maryland, to the busy streets of New York City, across the desert sands of Egypt, to the rocky cliffs of Ireland - Kalin must unravel the truths that have been hidden to him since childhood and fight for the right to live.
Will he be able to fight for a place in Khet and Sape society, or will bigotry, greed, and hate destroy him.

Buy Link:


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marcus picMarcus Twyman has lived most of his life in Montgomery County, Maryland. Since he was a child he's enjoyed writing stories, songs, and poetry - using the power of words as a therapeutic release for his feelings and emotions.

Now living in New York City, Marcus has been slowly adapting to the bustling concrete jungle and is incorporating his new experiences into his writing.





Book Blitz and Giveaway: SYMPHONY OF LIGHT & WINTER by Renea Mason






SymphonyofLightandWinter_ByReneaMason-800x1200SYMPHONY OF LIGHT & WINTER

Symphony of Light, Book 1

Publisher: Etopia Press

Publication Date: June 21st, 2013

One woman. Seven men. All bound by one man’s undying devotion.

Fundraiser Linden Hill has a knack for reading people. She always knows which conversations will put a prospect at ease, which drink will loosen a patron’s lips—or his wallet, and how cleavage will make a donor sweeten the deal. She’s even foreseen her dateless weekends four hundred and sixty-four times in a row.

But ten years after watching life drain from her former mentor’s and first love’s eyes, her skills for divining the predictable are lost. When Cyril returns, he’s still gorgeous, but this time he’s beyond human, far less dead, and pissed. His lack of memory drives him to desperate acts, and his turbulent re-acquaintance with Linden pulls her into his war with a creature hell-bent on his destruction. His group of six supernatural men share a tantalizing secret, but despite the hunger, it’s love that leads her to sacrifice everything to save him…

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My amusement was interrupted by the absolute last thing I needed. Cyril. As if being in a room with a bunch of men who wanted me but didn’t know why and hated me for it wasn’t bad enough. In his black custom suit, he radiated power. He pulled at his cuff links as he stopped to survey the room.
Instead of trying to make my escape, I seized an opportunity to antagonize him. I was really starting to enjoy tormenting him.
“Good morning, Grim, it is nice of you to join us.”
“Grim. Ha! She called him Grim.” Rhys clapped his hands as he laughed.
Cyril didn’t acknowledge me or Rhys’s comment. He stood there for a very long time and looked around the room at each man. Nobody met his gaze but me. Cyril’s fists clenched at his side, jaw tight, and face furious.
“I warned all of you,” he addressed the room. He didn’t growl but rather wrapped his words with a subtle menace.
“Leave them alone. You know this is entirely your fault. If you would just think things through, you’d stop fucking everything up. I do have to say, of all your fuckups, this one is certainly the most impressive and entertaining from my perspective.” I winked at Overton, who managed to glare at me even with his head practically bowed. Why were they so fucking subservient to him?
The next thing I knew, I was yanked from my seat and hoisted onto the counter. Cyril grabbed my ass and pulled me to the edge, forced my legs open, and stepped between them. He wrapped his arms around me and placed his head against mine. It wasn’t his voice I heard but rather his mind. It felt like when I talked to myself but somehow I knew it was him. Strange, he had tone and inflection while communicating.
“You need to stop showing off in front of my men. Yes, I fucked up, but do you really want them to give in to their urges? Do you think you can fend them off? I could toss you to them and see how far you get. Is that what you want? Maybe I should let them have their way with you and pull up a chair to watch. I want you to think about something before you start to defy me. I’m the only one who can keep you safe. So it’s best you stop being a smart-ass for five seconds and listen to me. I’m going to do something that will piss you off. I’m warning you now it’s for your own good. You need to go along with it, no matter how angry you are at me. Don’t fight me. I’ll try to fix this but until then, I need to take a few precautions.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond. If I thought something, could he hear me? Was this two-way communication? I tried to push him away.
He tightened his grip and his voice was in my head again.
“Stop it! Let me remind you that I have a special connection with these men. Not only can I read their thoughts but I can’t block them. I don’t have to try to receive them. I know exactly what each person in this room, besides you of course, is thinking right now.”
So that’s what Overton meant when he said Cyril had ways of finding out.
“The thoughts that assaulted me when I entered this room would make a porn star blush; every one of their little fantasies featured you.”
I giggled.
The voice growled. “Don’t laugh. I won’t pretend I’m not jealous and angry. I am. But if you knew the things they were thinking you’d better understand why I need to do what I’m about to do. Do you see Dominic over there? Let’s just say his tastes run a little dark. Ever spend considerable time naked with your hands bound behind your back and a ball gag in your mouth? He’s picturing you that way, this very instant.”
I stiffened. That didn’t at all appeal to me.
“Thor seems to think that you’d enjoy all of us taking you at the same time.”
And he seemed so quiet and sweet.
“Sinclair wants to shove his cock down your throat until you choke, all the while telling you how it’s your entire fault. Rhys is thinking of how you would look sprawled out on the hood of his new sports car, and Overton...”
“NO!” I yelled.
It seemed like a violation of privacy with Overton. Unlike the others, I considered him a friend. I respected him too much.
“See, like it or not, I’m going to tell you what he’s thinking since it pisses me off the most. He thinks I’m going to fuck you right here on this counter, to lay my claim. Once he gets past the fantasies of watching me fuck you, which he finds exceptionally arousing...”
There was a momentary pause to the voice and when he started again, he was angry.
“He then knocks on your bedroom door after you run crying from the room. You invite him in and he holds you in his arms while you cry about how I violated and humiliated you. He wants to comfort you. He wants to be your savior. He wants to save you from me. But he knows he can’t.”
I felt the moment he left my head, because a sudden wave of dizziness came over me.
With no more words, he tilted his head and placed his lips against mine. I fought the rigidity that tried to seize my body. I knew it was best to give in. I wouldn’t fight him, but I knew every time he got close, I ran the risk of losing myself. I was still way too angry to just give up.
His lips danced with mine as he nestled himself between my open thighs.
Was Overton right? How far would he take it? If it did go too far, would I be able to stop him? He was such a fucking weakness for me I honestly didn’t think I would.
He was gentle and softly stroked my back as his tongue made love to my mouth. With one hand he cupped my ass and pulled me flush against him, and with the other he reached up, cupped my breast, and squeezed hard. His kiss grew frantic and I became caught up in the sensation, forgot where I was, and that I had an audience. He pushed me hard against his erection as he rubbed himself rhythmically against my core. “You are mine. You belong to me. Now say it! Let them all know who you belong to.”
Was he kidding? I hesitated.
He ran his fangs up the side of my neck in warning. He whispered in my ear, “Say it. You need to say it. Let them hear it come from your lips.” His hand drifted from my breast to the hem of my nightgown and pulled up one side so it rested in the crease where my leg met my hip.
Somehow the part of me that knew he was right surfaced, and the stubborn part of me took a momentary vacation. If I was his, they wouldn’t dare defy him. It would keep me safe.
His fingers toyed with the edge of my panties before tugging the fabric to the side to allow him to stroke my moist skin. He positioned himself at the juncture between my legs, allowing my naked flesh to gather friction from his cloth-covered cock.
“Yes, Cyril, I’m yours.”
With that, he struck. His fangs pierced my neck. The second of pain from his bite passed and the pleasure grew, igniting my veins with liquid desire. One arm tightened around me, pulling me harder against his cock. The other held my head while he sucked harder. Each pull he took was linked to the sensitive place between my legs. He ground his hips into mine and I moaned. The first wave of climax hit, tensing muscles and pushing my breath out in a rush. This was new. He could do this just by biting me?
I shook in his arms as he drank. Tremor after tremor seized me as he took his fill. I was so caught up in the sensation I only vaguely noticed the moans and growls that escaped from behind his teeth. With one final pull, and a thrust of his hips, he finished with a crushing embrace as he removed his teeth from my neck.
“Mine!” he roared. He enveloped me in his arms and held me close. He dipped his head to lick closed the small punctures on my throat.
I threw my head back. My breathing slowed as the cloud that had invaded my head receded.
Son of a bitch! I just came in front of everyone while sitting on the kitchen counter!
I was afraid to open my eyes but when I did, he stared back.
He nuzzled my cheek. “I’m sorry. I only want to protect you. If you’re mine, no one will dare touch you. I needed to lay my claim but I didn’t want to take anything you hadn’t already offered. Since you’ve replenished me before I thought this might be more acceptable.”
I was angrier with myself than him.
He caressed my arms and back. When I mustered enough courage to look around, we were the only
people in the kitchen, with the exception of Overton, who stood in the doorway holding the keys to my car.
Cyril softly lifted my chin so that my eyes would meet his. “Again, I’m sorry. I know I end up saying that far too often. But I need you to know, hearing those words from your lips...ah, hell. I can’t even explain it. Perhaps someday, you’ll utter them in truth.”
He placed his forehead against mine, took a deep breath. “Fuck. Maybe Overton is right. Maybe someone should save you from me.”



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Renea Mason writes steamy romances to help even out the estrogen to testosterone imbalance caused by living in a house full of men.

When she isn’t putting pen to paper crafting sensual stories filled with supernatural lovers, she spends time with her beyond-supportive husband, two wonderful sons and three loving but needy cats.

She is also a founding member of the

Contact or follow Renea Mason

Saturday, October 26, 2013

Book Blitz: A Sleep So Dark by Inara Scott

a sleep so dark



A Sleep So DarkBook Info-

Title- A Sleep So Dark

By-Inara Scott

Genre- YA

Expected Publication Date- October 7th, 2013



After watching her mother die in a car accident, sixteen year-old Tandy McIntyre is plagued by violent dreams. Terrified to sleep and losing her grip on reality, she agrees to attend an experimental group retreat with Dr. Robert Gillman, an expert in lucid dreaming.


In the bitter cold of a Colorado winter, Tandy follows Dr. Gillman and his enigmatic son Cade as they lead a group of troubled teens into the wilderness. There, Dr. Gillman claims he will teach them to control their unconscious minds and master their dreams. But when the dreaming and the waking collide, will Tandy ever be safe again?

Don’t Fall Asleep…

Tandy Quote Pic


Inara ScottI read my first romance when I was twelve, hiding in a storage closet among hat boxes and old shoes. When I was in high school, I wrote a my first novel, a pirate romance called "A Wild and Stormy Passion." (The heroine was the pirate, in case you're wondering.) Since then, I've written young adult novels and romance in almost every category.

I am a dabbler and an emotional sponge. I can't read scary books or anything with an unhappy ending. I reserve the right to love country music, puppies, true love, and happily ever after.

I review books I want to share the word about.

Life's too short to read something you don't enjoy!






Friday, October 25, 2013

Book Blitz and Giveaway: Uprising, Bonfire Chronicles Book Two, by Imogen Rose

Uprising Banner 450 x 169





Bonfire Chronicles Book Two
Imogen Rose

Genre: YA/Paranormal

Publisher: Wild Thorn Publishing

Date of Publication: 10-10-2013

Cover Artist: Phatpuppyart

Book Description:

The global infrastructure that allows humans and supernaturals to coexist is under threat. A breakdown of this carefully maintained system erupts into worldwide chaos and could eventually lead to Armageddon.

Code Uprising is activated.

The power of the supernatural world shifts from the city councils to Bonfire Academy and the other elite paranormal preps. Now, the staff and students must follow the code, however deadly the ramifications, to return power to the city sovereigns in order to prevent an apocalypse.

Purchase Links


Kindle (UK):

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Next book

Retaliation (Bonfire Chronicles Book Three): Coming Spring 2014

Reading Order










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Imogen Rose is the author of the bestselling series, the Portal Chronicles, which has attained cult status within indie literature and become a favorite among teens and adults alike. An immunologist by profession, Dr. Rose published her first work of fiction in 2010. She now writes full time and is currently working on her second teen series, the Bonfire Chronicles. Imogen was born in Sweden and has lived in several places, counting London among her favorites. She moved to New Jersey in 2001. A self-confessed Hermès addict, Imogen freely admits to being obsessed with Kurt Cobain. She enjoys shopping, traveling, watching movies, and hanging out with her family, friends, and Chihuahua.



Twitter: ImogenRoseTweet

Instagram: ImogenRoseGram



Book Blast and Giveaway: CRAZY EX-GHOULFRIEND by Angela Roquet






Release Date: September 17, 2013

Genre: YA Zombie Standalone 

Janie Parker is in love with the boy next door, but he's dating Miss Popular. That is, until she wraps her car around a tree and bites the dust. Just when things settle down and Janie thinks that she might have a shot at going to prom with the boy next door, Miss Popular comes back from the grave, and she's one crazy ex-ghoulfriend.

Available at:








$20.00 gift card to Amazon, an autographed paperback of CRAZY EX-GHOULFREIND, a Ghoul Friend hand sanitizer and bookmark


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Urban Fantasy Author Angela Roquet lives in Sedalia, Missouri with her husband and son. When she’s not swearing at the keyboard, she enjoys painting, goofing off with her family and friends, and reading books that raise eyebrows.
Find Angela All Across the Interwebs...

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Amazon Page | YouTube

Series Blast and Giveaway: Angler Series by Annie Nicholas

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Bait CoverBAIT

Book One of Angler series

Sent on a mission to lure Budapest's vampire Overlord into a trap, Connie Bence is instead caught red-handed by the dark Casanova. Her employer has concrete proof of the dubious leader's misdeeds but she is surprised when this ruthless killer, Rurik, offers her protection and rescues her from his own kind.

It plants seeds of doubt in her mind and she begins to question his guilt. Now she is thrown into his world where blackmail determines her every move and where she must betray those she cares about or let them die. The stakes are high. She either puts her trust in Rurik or leads him to his execution.

Love or life.

This is a FREE eBook and available at the following retailers:

Amazon | B&N | Kobo | iTunes | Sony


Catch CoverCATCH

Book Two of Angler series

Caught between two vampires, Connie is torn between Rurik, the one she loves and Tane, the one she’d love to stake. Hunger burns in Connie Bence's soul--she craves the blood of her vampire lover, Rurik, but it’s not satisfying her needs anymore. It’s driving her insane.

Desperate to find help, Rurik brings her to Rio De Janeiro, where Tane rules the vampire nation. The back-stabbing vampire almost killed her and Rurik when they’d first met, then used them to obtain his crown. She would rather stake him, but the small drop of Nosferatu blood he’d forced her to drink in Budapest is blooming into a bond, one which ties her life to his. One he won’t hesitate to manipulate.

He admits to binding her so Rurik would have to remain at his side, but their timing couldn’t be any worse. The betrayer finds himself betrayed. Tane’s rule is in upheaval and he’s forced to place his trust in two people who owe him no allegiance—her and Rurik. In the middle of a power struggle, Connie fights to keep her lover, but didn’t plan on Tane slipping into her heart.

Print | Amazon | B&N | Sony | iTunes | Kobo


Hunting Colby CoverHUNTING COLBY

Book 2.5 of Angler series

Once she catches her prey, God help him.

Almost a year ago Gwen had met her mate in the fury of battle. Like most shifters, they knew upon contact. Unlike others, Colby hadn’t stuck around to bond. Never one to surrender, Gwen had left her pack to find out exactly what sent him running. Hopping from country to country, she chased him until she lost his scent.

Not willing to return home with her tail between her legs, she takes a job guarding the newest member of the Nosferatu clan in New York City where she discovers fresh traces of her mate. Hope returns and she takes up the hunt once more.

A slayer’s job is never done and Colby is hunting the vampire who kidnapped a member of his team, but every turn he takes keeps leading him back to the one person he’s been trying to avoid. Gwen.

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Book Three of Angler series

October 21st, 2013

Nosferatu rule from the shadow and keep order over their blood thirsty people. Bald with pointed ears, they give vampires something to fear. If a law is broken, they have only one punishment. Death. They are the most powerful clan in the Vampire Nation and the most monstrous. Only a male vampire can be transformed into a Nosferatu but not all survive.

Connie Bence is on the run with her two lovers, Rurik and Tane. As leader of the Nosferatu, Tane’s only threat is his own clansmen and they want all three of them dead. When Rurik began to lose his hair rumors spread and the Nosferatu accuse Tane of trying to transform Rurik into one of them illegally.

With the Nosferatu on their heels, Connie tries to figure out what’s changing Rurik and cure him before she loses him to blood lust.


Annie is giving away a $100.00 gift card to Amazon or B&N at the end of her tour to ONE lucky winner.

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Annie Nicholas writes paranormal romance with a twist. She has courted vampires, hunted with shifters, and slain a dragon’s ego all with the might of her pen. Riding the wind of her imagination, she travels beyond the restraints of reality and shares them with anyone wanting to read her stories. Mother, daughter, and wife are some of the other hats she wears while hiking through the hills and dales of her adopted state of Vermont.

Annie writes for Samhain Publishing, Carina Press, and Lyrical Press.

Connect with Annie:

website | newsletter | Twitter | Facebook.

If you want sneak peeks of my upcoming books and access to special contests and events, join her Street Team.