Friday, February 28, 2014

Book Blast, Giveaway & Review: Vampire Most Wanted - Argeneau Vampire Series Book 20 by Lynsay Sands

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VampireMostWanted mm cVampire Most Wanted

Argeneau Vampire Series

Book 20

Lynsay Sands

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Avon

Date of Publication: 2/18/2014

ISBN: 9780062078179

Number of pages: 384

Avon Romance Amazon BN

Book Description:

Take a road trip with the undead . . . in this latest in the argeneau series by New York Times bestselling author Lynsay Sands

For Basha Argeneau, anything is better than facing her estranged family. Even hiding out in sweltering southern California. But when a sexy immortal in black shows up determined to bring her back to the clan, she'll do anything to keep far, far away from the past she can't outrun.

Marcus Notte isn't here to play games—especially not with someone as crazy as the infamous blonde. Asked by Lucian Argeneau to bring her back for questioning, Marcus is determined to carry out Lucian's request—no matter how the seductive little mind-reading vamp feels about it.

Basha doesn't mind fighting fire with fire, especially with a hot immortal involved. But if he wants to take her away, he'll have to catch her first . . .




Chapter One

Divine saw her latest customer out, surprised to note that there was no one outside her door waiting for a reading. It was the first time that day that there was no line outside her RV. A glance at her watch explained why-- it was dinnertime. That was the only time she ever had a lull in customers. Right now the food stalls would have ridiculously long line as everyone at the fairgrounds converged on them in search of greasy treats to power the rest of the evening’s rides and fun. Which meant she had a few minutes to catch her breath and relax a bit.

She’d barely had the thought when she spotted a couple of women moving purposefully toward her trailer. After a brief hesitation, Divine quickly flipped the “Back in five minutes!” sign, let her screen door slide closed and descended the few steps to the ground. Ignoring the fact that the women were looking alarmed and rushing forward, she slipped around the side of her RV. Most customers would have stopped then, sagged with disappointment and waited, probably impatiently, but waited just the same, so Divine was a little surprised when her arm was grabbed from behind. She was more surprised, however, by the strength in the hand that latched onto her…until she turned and noted that it wasn’t one of the women at all, but a man.

A couple inches taller than her, dark haired and good-looking, he was built like a line backer. He was also looming over her, deliberately invading her space in a threatening manner as he growled, “What the hell did you say to my wife?”

Divine rolled her eyes with exasperation, wondering how she was supposed to know since she didn’t know who his wife was. She was about to say as much, but then realized that there was something familiar about the man and quickly dipped into his thoughts. A heartbeat later she was relaxing.

“Allen Paulson,” she murmured his name, getting an almost childish satisfaction when his eyes widened incredulously.

“How do you--?”

“I told your wife that you were having an affair with your buxom, blonde, twenty year old secretary, Tiffany,” Divine interrupted sharply, silencing him at once. “I told her that this Tiffany was pushing for marriage and that you, not wanting to lose her, but unwilling to give up your wife’s money preferred widowhood to divorce. I told her about your plans to bring about that widowhood on your upcoming vacation. I believe it was either her drowning or suffering a fall while camping in Yosemite National Park?” She tilted her head. “As I recall that trip was scheduled for this week, wasn’t it?”

When his mouth dropped open and his hold on her arm eased, Divine added, “I’m guessing by the fact that you’re here rather than in Yosemite, that she listened to my advice to make an appointment with her lawyer the next morning to change her will as well as remove you as the beneficiary on her life insurance.”

His hand dropped away, falling limply by his side.

“No doubt she also listened to my advice and hired a private detective. I gather she sent him to get photographic proof of your infidelity at that cheap little motel you like to take your secretary to everyday at lunchtime?” She slipped into his thoughts briefly, read the answer in the chaos there, and smiled with satisfaction. Not only had the wife done that, she’d then taken the proof straight to a good divorce lawyer. The woman was now safe and on her way to being single again. After that, though, the woman had told her dear hubby that the fortune teller at the carnival was the one who had given her the heads up and put her on this path and it had been the best twenty bucks she’d ever spent. Which was why Divine now had an irate and soon to be divorced and destitute husband on her hands.

Divine waited, braced for the man’s anger. But instead of the explosive rage she expected, he asked in a small, frightened voice, “How did you know? No one knew. I didn’t tell anyone what I planned. Not even Tiffany.”

“Did you even bother to read the sign when you walked your wife to my trailer that day two weeks ago in Pahrump?” she asked with amusement and then reminded him, “Madame Divine. Let her do a reading and define your future,” she reminded him.

“Yeah, but that’s just… It’s a scam,” he protested. “You’re a carnie. You just scam people out of their money for a laugh.”

“Yes, of course ,” Divine agreed coldly, and then tilted her head. “So why aren’t you laughing?”

Allen Paulson flinched as if she’d struck him, and then his awe and dismay gave way to the rage she’d expected earlier. Divine saw it roll over him, knew he was about to blow his top without the need to read him, but slipped into his thoughts anyway. It was like cutting through soft, half melted butter with a ceramic knife. The man was so angry his thoughts were wide open. Divine wasn’t terribly surprised to read that he’d brought a gun with him and planned to use it. She waited until he’d pulled the weapon from inside his jacket and raised it, though, before reacting. In fact, she let him get so far as to put his finger on the trigger before snapping her hand out, latching onto his throat and lifting him off the ground. She then whirled and slammed him against her RV.

When the gun fell from his hand and he moaned in pain, she released him. The man fell like a rag doll. He landed on his ass with his legs splayed, a dazed expression on his face, and Divine immediately dropped to straddle his lap. Gravel ground painfully into her knees, but she ignored that, caught him by the hair at the nape of his neck, pulled his head to the side and sank her fangs into his throat.

A little shiver of pleasure slid through Divine as thick warm blood began to gush from the wound, was collected by her teeth and passed into her body. It gave her an immediate rush as the nanos in her body swarmed, eager to collect this new supply of nourishment. The man had jerked in surprise when her teeth pierced his skin, and he’d raised his hands to try to push her off, but he never actually got around to exerting any pressure. Instead, he froze briefly, his mind overwhelmed as hers automatically began to transmit her own pleasure to him. In the next moment, he was moaning and tugging at her instead, pulling her closer with one hand, clasping her head with the other and murmuring encouragingly, “Oh, yeah, baby. Please.”

He was also arching his body under her, rubbing a sudden hardness against her. Divine usually didn’t cause pain in her victims, but this one deserved it. She also wasn’t terribly eager to let a man who had planned to murder his own wife dry hump her there on the carnival grounds, so she deliberately withdrew the pleasure that she was experiencing and had unintentionally shared. But she also slipped into his mind to control his reaction to prevent him from screaming out in horror and pain as his mind cleared and he became aware of what was happening.

Divine was always careful not to kill her hosts. Why kill the cow that gave the milk? Besides, killing was wrong, no matter how despicable the person was, so while she drank more than she normally would have, she pulled back and freed him at the point when he was weak and woozy, but long before the man could come close to dying.

Smiling coldly at his horrified expression, Divine stood, lifting him as she went. Once they were both upright, she released him, leaving him to lean weakly against the RV rather than have to touch him anymore.

“Listen carefully Allen Paulson,” she said grimly. “You will not hurt your wife, or ever again consider harming or killing anyone for profit or any other reason. If you do, I’ll find out, and then I’ll find you…” She raised her hand to run one finger lightly over the wound on his neck. “And then I will finish this meal, cut your head off and leave your cold dead body somewhere no one will ever find you. Do we understand each other?”

Allen Paulson nodded weakly. The man’s face was as white as his t-shirt, his eyes almost sunken with horror and he was sliding slowly along her RV, obviously eager to escape, but afraid to try and be stopped. Divine scowled. “And if you tell anyone about this, about me,” she emphasized, “I’ll do worse.”

He began shaking his head frantically and whispered, “I won’t. I swear.”

She narrowed her eyes, and then her nose wrinkled as the acrid scent of urine wafted up between them. Glancing down, she saw the wet spot growing on the front of his trousers and stepped back with disgust. “Get out of here before I change my mind and wipe yours.”

Allen Paulson didn’t have a clue what she meant by that-- she could see it in his expression-- but he didn’t stick around to ask. He simply nodded wildly and sidled along the RV for a couple feet before finding the courage to turn his back to her and run.

“You should have wiped his mind.”

Divine stiffened at those words from behind her, and then turned slowly. She peered at the tall fair-haired man who had spoken. He was a greenie, an unskilled laborer and supposedly a local who had been hired to help out at the carnival while they were in town. The name he went by was Marco. Divine knew this secondhand, because while she was normally in on the hiring process, using her “special skills” to help Bob and Madge Hoskins who owned and ran Hoskins Amusements, this time she hadn’t been here. Family issues had kept her away and the hiring had been done by the time she’d caught up to the carnival. Had she been here to help weed out the troublemakers in the hiring process as she usually did, she never would have allowed Bob and Madge to hire the man. One, she couldn’t read him, and that was usually a sign of insanity in a mortal. This leads into the second reason she wouldn’t have hired him; the man, like herself, was an immortal. She’d sensed that about him quite quickly. Divine wasn’t sure how she’d known. She didn’t run into a lot of immortals. In fact, she’d arranged her life so that she wouldn’t. But there had been a frisson of awareness as she’d first passed him on returning to the carnival just before noon that day, as if the nanos in her body recognized and sent signals to those in his. She’d been avoiding him ever since.

But that hadn’t stopped her from finding out all she could about him. Not that there had been much to learn. He went by Marco, last name Smith of all things. The women all thought he was a hunk. The men thought he was practically a God because he was strong and could do the work of four men, and Bob and Madge were hoping he’d not just help out through their stay in this town, but travel with them to the next and the next and so on. For herself, Divine was wary. She had avoided other immortals for a reason and had been doing so for a very long time. She didn’t like having one around. It made her anxious and she disliked feeling anxious.

“Don’t you have something to do?” she asked, moving past the man and toward the back of her RV. The sign she’d turned had said back in five minutes and that time was up. Besides, she’d snacked on Allen Paulson and felt better for it. Break time was over.

“You should have wiped his mind,” Marco repeated, falling into step with her.

“He’ll keep his mouth shut,” Divine muttered, annoyed, mostly because she knew he was right. The truth was she hadn’t wiped Allen Paulson’s mind because it was slimy, and she hadn’t wanted to have to spend any more time inside his mind than necessary. Besides, he deserved to go through life terrified that she might someday revisit him should he set a foot wrong.

“And if he doesn’t keep his mouth shut?” Marco asked as they neared the end of her RV. “What if he goes to the police?”

“If he goes to the police, and if they don’t immediately lock him up as crazy but instead come to speak to me…” She shrugged. “I’ll wipe his mind, the officer’s mind and leave this carnival for another.”

“Is that how you landed at Hoskins’ Carnival?” Marco asked as they rounded the end of the vehicle. “You didn’t wipe someone you should have and had to move on?”

Divine turned on him sharply, an angry retort on her lips, but just as quickly caught back the words that wanted to spill out and merely said with forced calm, “You’re an inquisitive fellow, Marco. It’s not healthy around here. Carnies mind their own business. I suggest you do the same.”

Turning away from him, she smiled at the two women who were waiting in front of her door. Others had joined them. In fact, Divine now had a line up of a half a dozen people and it was growing by the minute, but she reserved her smile for the first two only and said, “Which of you would like to go first? Or shall I take you together?”

“Oh, me first,” one of the women said eagerly. “This was my idea.”

Divine nodded and led the woman inside, leaving Marco and all thought of him out on her stoop.

“Here, Mister.”

Marcus tore his gaze from the door Madame Divine had just ushered her client through and peered down at the small boy tugging at the top of his pant leg and holding out a half eaten ball of cotton candy on a cardboard cone.

“Here,” the boy repeated, holding it a little higher. “I don’t feel good. You can have the rest.”

Marcus arched an eyebrow, but took the cotton candy. He suspected the boy didn’t feel good because he was stuffed full of cotton candy, something drenched in mustard, powdered elephant ears and—he considered the last stain on the boy’s shirt consideringly and then decided it had to be – ice cream. The kid was a walking menu of everything he’d eaten that day. At least, Marcus hoped it was all the kid had eaten that day. Otherwise he’d be wondering if Dante and Tomasso hadn’t fathered the little tyke. They were the only two people he knew, mortal or immortal, who could have eaten like that as a boy.

“Danny! What are you doing? Get over here and leave that man alone.”

Marcus glanced at the woman rushing toward them from the midway and offered a reassuring smile even as he slipped into her thoughts to ease her mind that he wasn’t a child molester and nothing untoward was happening. By the time she reached them, she’d slowed to a fast walk, and was smiling in a relaxed manner.

“I hope he wasn’t bothering you?” she said apologetically as she took the boy’s hand.

“Not at all,” Marcus assured her.

The young mother smiled again and then nodded and turned away with the boy, saying, “Come on, honey. Your daddy is waiting with your sister in the Ferris wheel line. They’ll be worried.”

Marcus watched them go and then turned his gaze back to Madame Divine’s RV. The door was closed now as were the blinds. He couldn’t see the woman anymore, except in his mind’s eye and he was definitely seeing her there. Madame Divine was more than memorable in her gypsy getup. A white peasant blouse, worn off the shoulders, a crimson under skirt, a bright teal scarf skirt, an orange sash tied at the waist with gold chains hanging from it and tinkling merrily, a wide leather belt and a crimson scarf around her head. Gold hoops had dangled from her ears, a gold chain hung around her neck, several gold bracelets dangled from her wrist, and knee high black leather boots with stiletto heels strapped up the front of her legs had finished the outfit.

The woman looked damned sexy in the getup, so sexy in fact that when she’d straddled the would-be wife killer, Marcus had wanted to pull her off the man and onto his own lap. He’d been rather startled by that urge. Marcus hadn’t been interested in women for a while. Okay, for a couple millenia. Still, he hadn’t come across a woman like Madame Divine in quite a while either. The woman was walking sex in her get up, and his body was waking up and responding to it.

Obviously he had a gypsy fetish, Marcus thought wryly. It made as much sense as anything else at the moment. Certainly more sense than his own life presently did. It appeared at the ripe old age of 2548 he was having a midlife crisis of sorts. That was the only explanation for how he found himself doing a favor for Lucian Argeneau.

Marcus smiled wryly at the thought. Lucian Argeneau was not only the head of the powerful Argeneau clan, but also oversaw the Rogue Hunters and led the North American immortal council. Rogue Hunters were the immortal police force, they hunted down rogue immortals to be presented to the immortal council who then passed judgment on them and sentenced them to whatever punishment they saw fit, often death.

As the head of those two organizations, Lucian could arguably be the most powerful immortal in North America. It was hard to imagine him needing anyone’s help. But he did. He was searching for a family member, his niece, Basha Argeneau, who had been thought to be dead for millennia, but who may now be alive after all…and whom he feared had gone rogue.

Which is how Marcus had come to find himself at the carnival, eyeballing the trailer of a woman he couldn’t read and found incredibly sexy. Not that his not being able to read her bothered him. If this was Basha Argeneau, she was even older than he was and younger immortals usually couldn’t read immortals older than themselves. It wasn’t like any of the other signs of having met a life mate were cropping up, like renewed interest in food and such. Thank God, because if she had been a possible life mate and was Basha Argeneau…well, that would have been a doomed relationship from the start. Because Basha Argeneau was considered rogue…and rogues were executed. The last thing he needed at this point in his life was a rogue life mate.

“Hey! Marco! Are you going to stand around stuffing your face all night or help me with the pogo stall?”

Marcus glanced around with surprise to find Kevin Morrow walking toward him. The twenty-year old carnie was tall and stick-thin, his face a collection of freckles so thick that from a distance it looked like a tan. Up close though you saw that his face was definitely freckled, and it was also presently scrunched up with displeasure, reminding him that he was only supposed to take a fifteen minute break from helping to man the food stall.

“I was--”

“Stuffing your face,” the young carnie interrupted dryly and then turned away, gesturing for him to follow. “Come on. If you’re hungry you can have a corn dog while you work. It’s probably better for you than that sugary fluff anyway.”

Marcus blinked and glanced down at the cone with the half eaten cotton candy the boy had given him several minutes ago. Or what had been half eaten cotton candy. There was nothing left of the sweet treat now. Surely he hadn’t eaten it? He hadn’t eaten in more than a millennia. He didn’t remember eating it. But he did have a sweet taste in his mouth that was rather pleasant.

“Damn,” he muttered, tossing the cardboard cone into a garbage bin as he headed after Kevin. He’d eaten it. Couldn’t read Madame Divine, and was lusting after the woman. Oh, this wasn’t good.


5 out of 5 Stars

Vampire Most Wanted

Argeneau Vampire Series, Book 20

Lynsay Sands


For thousands of years Basha Argeneau have been running from her own uncle. As child fate was cruel to her she was captured by a ruthless no fanger, a time in her live that changed her forever.

Believing that her uncle would kill her and her fangless son, Basha kept them hidden all this time. But her success is about to end. Marcus Notte was sent to find the rogue Basha Argeneau, and is sent to a carnival where he meets Madame Devine. Immortal like himself Devine survives by reading fortunes to others. But from the first night things doesn’t look good for Devine, someone is trying to kill her and Marcus as well. When Marcus discovers that Devine is his life mate, he dreads finding out if she is the very rogue he was sent to kill.

Could he destroy the life mate he was searching for all this time? Or would he forgo all that he knew and valued to keep her safe?

Well this was certainly a bit different than the other books. This time around Sands left out the gut wrenching humor, and added something a little darker. At first I was concerned that this might be damaging to the series, but in the end I think this is just what the series needed. Yes, we do have the famous faint sessions, but with this one we are also reminded how serious and extreme the immortals life is and was. Basha story was heartbreaking. For her to have suffered at such a young age, and even thousands of years later was just devastating. I was so glad when the truth finally came out and to see Marcus reaction. Damn, Sands just know how to make them males. Marcus was the perfect hero from start to finish. Unlike most of the Argeneau males he was really composed, professional, calm and collected.

I have to say that the ball crushing moment had me breaking apart, I just love this part of Sands novels. But to wrap it up, the series are still as amazing as ever and I think the future ones are going to be just as amazing. Although there was a few spots in the plot where I was a little lost, it didn’t really blow the story out of line and I was grinning at the end.





3 print copies of ONE LUCKY VAMPIRE (previous book in the series)

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Author PhotoLynsay Sands is the nationally bestselling author of the Argeneau/Rogue Hunter vampire series, as well as numerous historicals and anthologies. She’s been writing stories since grade school and considers herself incredibly lucky to be able to make a career out of it. Her hope is that readers can get away from their everyday stress through her stories, and if there’s occasional uncontrollable fits of laughter, that’s just a big bonus. For more information, go to

Series Blast & Giveaway:ADIB Series by @Elle_Jefferson

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clip_image002At Death It Begins


Book One

Elle Jefferson

Genre: Paranormal romance

ISBN: 9781484877098


Number of pages: 418

Word Count: 98,184

Cover Artist: Krysa Designs

Book Description:

Lendyn Hughes' grandmother has kept a secret from her for over thirty-one years, who Lendyn's parents are. A devastating break-up following her grandmother's death leaves Lendyn alone, confused and determined to find answers. Armed with only a name Lendyn attempts to unfurl the branches of her family tree never guessing it would put her life in danger.

For over two hundred years Englishman Callum Scott lived a life surrounded by beauty. A life free from all those annoying human emotions. That is until the American showed up. Lendyn flipped his world upside down and put him in the worst sort of jeopardy. He's starting to feel things and a murderer can't afford to feel.

Amazon Paperback

Book Trailer

Short Excerpt: Chapter 1

My hand fumbled through the darkness reaching for Devin. I needed to feel him, know he was there. Something troubled me, but I couldn’t put a finger on what.

A morsel of his flesh beneath my fingers would pacify me. Assure me he was still there. I reached further until my fingers collided with the soft, peach under-flesh of his forearm. I ran a hand across his solid form pausing for a moment to trace a figure eight on the mound of muscle encompassing his shoulder. He had a body fit to be relished even in the troubling hour’s lack of sleep brought.

He purred for a moment before stretching an arm and rolling over to his stomach stifling his rhythmic snoring. I tucked the sheets over him and kissed his golden hair. It was a perfect evening; work failed to interrupt our plans which were a rarity. We went for a moonlit walk along Paradise Cove, an exclusive beach, you had to be a member of to stroll along. This meant no paparazzi to hassle us.

They were one of many drawbacks to dating a celebrity, but as I admired the contours of his body, there were benefits too. Though maybe tonight had been too perfect. That was silly thinking. We didn’t spend enough time alone for anything to be too perfect.

An eerie flash of red in my peripheral caught my attention. I sat up noticing for the first time the clock on the nightstand was flashing 11:41 over and over. One of the problems to living in an old hotel like the Beltmore … things tended to fizzle out all the time. Last month it was the air conditioning, before that, the hot water. Maybe Devin was right, and it was time to move out of this hotel and into an apartment. I shrugged, I’d debate that tomorrow.

I patted the nightstand for my cell; it wasn’t there. Then I remembered I dropped it on the dresser earlier this evening when Devin had pinned me there to deliver one of his toe curling kisses. Trying to keep quiet while navigating the dark became impossible when I stubbed my toe on one of Devin’s Sketchers and tripped headfirst into the dresser. My hand flew to my mouth muffling a scream that rushed to my lips. Devin stirred but didn’t wake.

Phew. The last thing I needed was to wake him. He was a bit of a grump and once he was awake, he’d have to leave. Work always came first.

Along the dresser, I felt the smooth outline of my phone. When the screen lit up the time was only 2:08 a.m. still early and plenty of time to crawl back into bed and snuggle up next to Devin. Halfway back to bed and my phone started vibrating. There were fourteen missed calls and one voicemail, all of which, came from one number—Emma. Now, I was a bit worried. It’d been a while since the last time I’d spoken with my best friend Emma.

Emma had this philosophy about calling once and not calling again until you called her back, hence my worry.

I dialed my voicemail, “Wednesday, 12:15 a.m—Lend, its Em call me as soon as you—BEEP.” Em was calling on the other line. Why was I so nervous to answer it?

“Em what’s going on—” I swallowed, “—is everything okay?”

Emma didn’t even get my name out before she broke into sobs. Maybe she and “Mister Perfect” broke up again.

“Hello,” I said a little louder, “you still there?” All I could hear was sniffling, maybe she accidentally pocket dialed me. I debated hanging up and calling her back when a familiar English accent came on the line—Mister Perfect. “Lendyn it’s Zach … I’m afraid I have bad news … there was an accident involving Gigi,” he paused to take a breath as I held mine, “I’m afraid she didn’t make it.”

The room began to spin, and gravity pulled at me. Was I dreaming? This had to be a dream.

Zach’s voice continued, but I didn’t hear anything except a loud buzzing as my legs gave out, and I collapsed to the floor.




clip_image004In Death's Touch


Book Two

Elle Jefferson

Genre: Paranormal Romance


Number of pages: 400

Cover Artist: Krysa Designs

Book Description:

Lendyn Hughes had everything she wanted. A family that welcomed her with open arms and a man who loved her as-is. So what if they were all vampires, love picked you not the other way round. Besides she was half vampire herself.

One brief encounter. One wrong decision took it all away.

Now Lendyn is trying to remember what in the world she’s exactly doing in London, why she’s back with her ex, where she got the bruises covering her ribs from and who the taunting voice in her head is.

I’m sorry. Two words Callum never hated more. They were the two words he’d found on the Dear John note in Lendyn’s room. With one breath she declared her love and in the next breath she left him. Now his future looks bleak without Lendyn to color the way.

Excerpt: Chapter 1 Book Two

It was a beautiful day for a wedding. The English countryside provided a glorious canvas of green, while butterflies dancing along flowers provided an array of color, and bees buzzing provided the summer tune making it a day cut from a fairy tale. Surrounding magnolia bushes were in bloom, their fragrance carried along the breeze. From Callum’s bedroom window was an excellent view of the gazebo where Zach, his cousin, the brother his vampire life prevented him from having, was about to marry a loud obnoxious American named Emma. Emma wore on his nerves but she made Zach happy so he would learn to suffer her disagreeable ways.

Decorated in garlands of ice blue roses and white gardenia buds, the gazebo was as lovely as a painting.

Callum’s gaze, however, focused on the gardener pruning evergreens around the gazebo. Every squeeze of the shears flexed the gardener’s biceps. His skin dewed, veins bulging with the exertion wetted Callum’s appetite. Since Lendyn’s release from the hospital, he, along with the rest of his family, had been quenching their hunger from a supply of blood kept in a repository down in the wine cellars within the dungeons below Scott manor.

Sinking your teeth into a plastic IV bag did not bring the same thrill, or relief, sinking into the supple flesh of a neck, or thigh, did.

The gardener put his shears down and leaned against a marble column pressing a hand to his forehead shading his eyes as he looked up towards sky.

Up towards Callum.

Though with his human eyes there was no way the gardener could see this far. Callum watched the gardener’s jugular strain in a thick line along his neck.

Curse his vow not to spill a drop of human blood in honor of today’s wedding. The gardener started to rub at his neck and shoulder beckoning Callum to take a taste.

His blood called to him, sang of it’s sweetness. Callum couldn’t stop his fangs from poking through his bottom lip as he bit down hard. He slammed the window shut, locked it, and pulled the curtains closed. He took another second to get his breathing back to normal.

He tapped his fingers on the doorknob of his wardrobe, his gaze straying back to the window.


He pulled open the doors and gagged at the sickening scent of cinnamon. Marco’s scent. Marco. His cousin and the man responsible for killing Emery, Callum's mother, he was also the man responsible for putting Lendyn in the hospital in the first place. Originally, Callum believed Marco attacked Lendyn out of spite. A means to punish Callum for all eternity, but that wasn’t the case. As ludicrous as it was, Marco was on a mission to destroy everything. Callum’s unhappiness was just an added benefit.

Marco’s wretched scent continued to hang around attached to the tailored suit he made for Callum. Callum yanked the suit from the depths of his closet and hung it on the door.

Yes, he claimed he’d disposed of it as he’d been ordered to do. Marco’s coup d’├ętat severed all ties to their coven, their family, and in accordance with tradition everything he handled was burned. Callum had never seen Emma smile wider than when she watched every last evidence of Marco’s existence burn to ash, her wedding dress being the last item thrown onto the flaming pyre.

After that she’d become more flippant and rude to everyone, but especially him. Emma’s last injection had been that night and her vampire side was quick in taking over.

He rubbed the suit’s lapel between his fingers which he did every day, every time he examined the suit. He touched every button, rubbed every seam and squeezed every pocket. And, like every other time, he found nothing. Callum steepled his hands together and tapped his fingers on his chin.

Whether it was the way Marco glared at the jacket each time Callum came for a fitting, the cold stare down with Marco right before getting the suit, or the shiver that played down his spine when his fingers brushed Marco’s as he took the suit, he couldn’t say. Whatever instance it was though, made it a compulsion to keep the suit. Callum knew he couldn’t get rid of it because a vital clue hid within the stitching. He just hadn’t found that bloody clue yet.

He sneered at the suit before tucking it back into the depths of his wardrobe. He laid down on his bed rolling over to inhale the scent still lingering on his sheets—lilac.

It gave him chills.

He let go of the sheets and slid from the bed. Better to forget almost moments than try to repeat them. Lendyn consumed his thoughts, his fantasies. If not for continual interruptions from family, one of their almost moments was certain to turn dangerous. Every time her skin touched his he was willing to throw every rule away to never break contact. Worse was that these almost moments could end in blood being spilled; and not his.

He walked over to the wall separating his room from Lendyn’s and ran his hands along it. He couldn't say what he feared more, giving it all, or withdrawing completely. They’d danced along this knife blade so long he wasn’t sure he could do anything without being cut completely.

As much as he yearned for Lendyn, he feared her too. Logic leapt out a window whenever he was in her company. His emotions, which were lacking before, were a torrent now that buoyed to her, rising and falling with her changing moods.

It was disconcerting to be so attached to another. To worry as he did about Lendyn. He’d vowed to never let another person corrupt him, yet here he was utterly at her mercy. He hoped she was incapable of cruelty in sport or else his heart would be crushed.



Prize pack 1- e-books of Temp by Kelly Collins, Broken by K. Webster, Ignite by Tessa Teevan, The Hart Family box set by Ella Fox, Fade In by Mo Mabie, Blind Obsession by Ella Frank, and A is for Alpha by Laurel Curtis.

Prize pack 2- ebooks of A Window to Love & Reclining Nude in Chicago by Fifi Flowers, Push The Envelope and Hit the Wall by Rochelle Paige, Save Me From Myself by Stacey Mosteller, Annie of London by L.A. Rikand, Goodbye Caution by Jacquelyn Ayres and Infamous Ellen James by NA Alcorn.

Prize Pack 3- A signed paperback of At Death It Begins and a bag of book related swag (i.e. bracelet, pen, bookmark, 5$ GC to Amazon, notepad) Open to US Shipping

Prize Pack 4-A signed paperback of In Death's Touch and a bag of book related swag (i.e. pen, bookmark, 5 GC to Amazon, notepad) Open to US Shipping

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Elle Jefferson lives up in northern Arizona with her two beautiful sons, wonderful husband and her German Shepard Dorrie. When she's not reading or writing she's painting or enjoying the great outdoors.

She is currently working on her follow-up to At Death it Begins, In Death's Shadow, and hopes to have it released in early December.




Amazon Author Page

Thursday, February 27, 2014

Character Interview with Taylor Lane from Quicksilver Dreams

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Today on the blog we are interviewing Taylor Lane from Quicksilver Dreams, by author Danube Adele, today’s book blast. Thanks for stopping by today Taylor and sharing with us. So here we go.

Character Name: Taylor Lane
Character Bio:
Awesome assistant to highly successful, super-sized asshole, Hollywood agent, but if this job doesn’t kill me, I can eventually be a shoe-in for one of the studio jobs and start making more money.
Bartender on the weekends – just to make a little extra money. I hated feeling the pinch of poverty growing up, so I just work harder. I never want to feel poor again.
Badass extraordinaire – Been taking kickboxing classes at my local gym for about a year. My roundhouse kick makes such a satisfying “pow” sound on the heavy bag. I might not look tough, but I can kick some *ss!

Describe yourself what is your worst and best quality?
The wonderfulness of me is I am like a dog with a bone when it comes to focusing myself. I can work hard and let the emotional abuse that comes with being an agent’s assistant roll right off my back. Ever seen Swimming with Sharks? I have thick skin, and I’ve earned the right to have it.
My worst qualities? My roommate thinks I’m bad because I don’t ever give anyone a chance. I suppose I have trust issues. When it comes to other people, I have no patience playing the let’s-get-to-know-each-other game and build a friendly relationship with someone. I have enough to do. If it’s not absolutely necessary, I don’t want to do it. I’m lucky I have Cynthia, and that only happened because I needed a roommate.

What is your biggest secret something no one knows about?
I have a recurring nightmare where I relive the day that was both the best and worst of my younger life. My mother took me to the LA County Fair to have what I think of as a Marsha and Carol Brady kind of a mother/daughter day, but unlike Carol Brady, my mom couldn’t make it a whole day without getting some kind of fix, be it drugs or alcohol. I was never sure. Near the end of the day, after we’d had the best day of my life, where she actually paid attention to me and made me feel like I was special to her, she left me outside one of the bars. I was too young to go in, but she promised to be right back out. Hours later, I was still waiting. Cold, scared, hungry, pitiful, panicked, crying. Strangers were coming up to me, and with great fear, I imagined they were trying to get at me. Of course I know now they were only trying to help. Someone eventually called the cops, and I was taken to my grandmother’s house. The feeling of abandonment never leaves me.

What are you most afraid of?
I can’t let anyone have power over me again. The memory of being so helpless and scared never leaves me. The deep hurt that just makes me want to bawl when I really let myself think of my mom is not acceptable. I can’t let myself be weak or dependent on anyone else again. If I refuse to let anyone get too close, then I can be safe, right?

What do you want more than anything?
I wish I could find my mom. I want to know why she left without a word. One day she dropped me off at my aunt’s and never looked back. What was so important that she couldn’t ever see me again? Did I do something? Is she even alive? That’s something that still gets to me.

What is your relationship status?
I’m single. My roommate has accused me of deliberately putting out “back the hell off” signals to guys, and maybe that’s true. Partly, though, I just don’t have any room to mess up. I can’t run home to mommy and daddy when I get hurt or if I go broke or something. I don’t even know who my father is. I work two jobs to make sure ends meet, and I have very little free time. Guys are a luxury.

How would you describe your sense of fashion?
Being an ex-trailer park girl who never used to have money for new clothes, and with the memory of kids teasing me about that all the time in school, I will always be careful about what I wear now. I love buying expensive, good quality pieces that will last. I’m patient. Budgeting is one of my things, and I am good at waiting until I can afford something. I am not a frivolous shopper. Only quality cut, classic pieces that will not go out of style, and nothing that’s just trendy. I watch the classy stars on the red carpet and take note of who looks like class and who looks like trash. Of course, I have regular, workout/hanging around watching TV kind of clothes, but those aren’t real interesting.

How much of a rebel are you?
I’m a rebel in the sense that I refuse to be taken care of. I will handle my own problems or die trying. There’s no way in hell I would ever call up my aunt or my cousin and see if they can help me out. I could be bleeding out my eyes and coughing out my last precious breaths of life and I’d still give them both the finger as I fell dead on my face. Is that cold? Maybe. I’ve got my reasons.

What do you considered to be your greatest achievement?
I managed to graduate from college with a full ride using a combination of scholarship money and financial aid, which I qualified for, being the poor orphan that I was. In spite of my circumstances, and here’s more of that evidence of my doggedness when I want something badly enough, I completed a Bachelor’s degree in Psychology.

What is your idea of happiness?
I love those rare moments, usually on a Sunday morning, where I’m crashed on the couch with my only real good friend and roommate, Cynthia, watching sincerely bad reality TV that we can make fun of, where neither of us has to run off to work or to an appointment. Feeling the warmth of friendship is something I really treasure.

What is your current state of mind?
It’s a luxury to indulge in upset and drama, so I’m usually pretty straightforward, good to go, what you see is what you get, let’s get shit done and move on.

What is your most treasured possession?
I have a charm bracelet that my mother gave me the day we went to the fair in her moment of clarity. She explained the meaning behind each charm that day, but the one that I most care about is the one my father gave her when I was born. She refused to talk about him, or tell me who he was, and it made her cry to remember, so I never asked again.

What is your most marked characteristic?
I’m pretty much a smart*ss. Humor goes a long way in making sure people don’t get close to you. It’s good social glue, so people don’t think you’re stuck up, but it also let’s you wear a mask. It’s a smiling mask, but a mask all the same.

What is it that you, most dislike?
Carelessness. So much of the time, it’s seen as a joke, right? Oh, I’m so forgetful, sorry you had to wait again, sorry I didn’t think of you, sorry I lost track of time, and we’re all supposed to laugh when people make those kinds of excuses, but I don’t see it as funny. I see it as self-centered. I understand being forgetful every once in a while, but when it happens regularly, it just says to me, “I don’t care about you.”

Which living person do you, most despise?
It’s hard to say. Hitler sucked, but he’s not living. Could I say Charles Manson? Or the crazy leader of North Korea who is starving his people? The shooters who go into schools and take out kids?

What is your greatest regret?
I never got to have a chance to feel young and carefree. In school, I saw all the kids getting to feel and act like kids. In high school, I had a job and paid the rent on our trailer space since my cousin acted like a great big punk *ss and refused to work. She either wouldn’t get her hands dirty or thought she was too pretty and made for better things or something, but the result was the same. My aunt couldn’t make enough to really support us. I’ve always had to pony up, taking whatever sh*t jobs teens were given, just to make sure the roof stayed over our heads.

What is the quality you most like in a man?
Integrity. I think about what kind of guy I’d eventually like to have in my life, and mostly, beyond enjoying the outer packaging of manly muscles, I like the idea of someone doing right. Someone like that isn’t just out for themselves, you know?

What is the quality you most like in a woman?
Honesty. It takes courage to be honest about who you are in this world, particularly if you’re a woman. I probably still struggle with that one myself.

Who is your favorite hero in fiction?
I love Ellen Ripley in Aliens. She is a real bad*ss. She’s tough, doesn’t care what others think. She does what’s right, even if she might die in the process. You can count on her to be consistent. I try to keep that image of her in my mind, the one where she’s in that big robot machine battling her monster. That’s who I want to be.

Which living person do you most admire?
I don’t pay a lot of attention to what other people do, but it’s easy enough to say that Oprah Winfrey does some good things for people. But really, when you’re fabulously wealthy, I think it’s easy to do grand things in the world for others, which doesn’t negate the goodness. But I’ve had teachers who weren’t wealthy who did wonderful things for me in my life who I will never forget. They were selfless.

If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be?
I would try to be more patient with others. I can look back and see that there have been people, here and there, who were cool and maybe would have made good friends.

What is your motto?
Act as if… If you act as if you own the place when you’re nervous, if you act as if everything is going to be all right, if you act as if, you put in the outcome you’re hoping for, then the chances are higher it will turn out that way. I got that watching Dr. Phil. See? Watching TV can be very beneficial.

If you would like to know more about Taylor check out today’s book blast.

Book Blitz & Giveaway: Quicksilver Dreams -Dreamwalkers Book One by @DanubeAdele

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clip_image002Quicksilver Dreams


Book One

Danube Adele

Genre: PNR New Adult

Publisher: Carina Press

ISBN: 978-14268-9785-6

ASIN: B00F93X86Q

Number of pages: 317

Word Count: 132,000

Carina Press Amazon Barnes and Noble

Book Description:

My name is Taylor, and damn but my life changed overnight. One moment I was just a regular girl working two jobs to pay my bills, and next thing you know, I'm uncovering secret metal disks at my boss's house. Now I'm reading minds, dream-walking and being saved from bad guys by Mr. Dark and Brooding.

That would be Ryder Langston, my new next-door neighbor. He's sex on legs but he's also a secret agent from another world—no joke. I believe him now because he dragged me back here "for my protection" after he discovered someone was trying to assassinate me on Earth. It isn't working out so well.

There's a war going on, one that's been fought for generations. Ryder's having trust issues (not that it's stopping us from falling into bed), and it turns out I'm connected here, if you know what I mean. The target on my back finally makes sense, but there's nowhere left to hide…

Goodreads book page:


Was this a dream?

Had I ever felt this lucid in a dream before?

I could feel the silky material around my eyes, on my wrists and ankles, softly sliding against my skin. With my body waking to sensual heat seeping through my veins, I only wanted to concentrate on what was happening in the moment, appreciate the swirl of masculine energy twining through the feminine threads of my own.

So good…

My dreams usually had a surreal, nondistinct, floating quality to them. This time, I actually felt a large, rough hand feathering over the skin on my rib cage, my flat stomach, agonizingly slow, avoiding obvious erogenous zones.

It was a hot, searing touch. It was like someone was actually there. Someone I wanted…

More… Like that… So good…

I could scent spicy soap that was subtle, yet distinctly male, arousing, and couldn’t help the feverish whispers of encouragement.

Oh, my God… Yes…

My sex dreams usually made me struggle with the frustration of a roller-coaster experience that never finished. I would ride a buildup of desire and a cool down, over and over, my imagination acting as a careless lover with wonderful intent but clumsy execution. This time there was no such neglect. The burn was exquisite, building and teasing, ebbing and flowing, but never forgetful and creating a fever that made me writhe with need.


Never had I ever felt this way before, chanting my demand, desperately wanting to reach the end of the ride.

Yes! Like that! Yes!

Sudden sensation poured over and through me, powerfully enough that I woke myself and sat up. My breath was short and gasping. My body was quivery and oversensitized. I was covered with a fine sheen of sweat, and my sheet was twisted in carefree abandon around my naked body.

I half expected to find a man in front of me.

Rubbing my wrists as though the soft bindings were still tied to me, I glanced around my sparsely furnished bedroom and felt my body quake with a small, faint aftershock. I was alone. Nothing was disturbed. At the same time that I drew comfort from seeing that everything in my world was still in its place, a faint echo of grief, or disappointment, took the edge off my contentment, like I was missing something. I was solo after such an erotic experience.

What about the hand? Who was it attached to?

A part of me had to give a mental headshake of exasperation.

No men for you. At least not yet.

The inevitable weight of responsibility, like a bucket of ice water, reminded me that I needed to work and pay the bills. I had to make ends meet. There was no one who was going to help me.

Usually, I accepted this with a matter-of-factness, but this night, a spike of resentment reared its head.

What would it be like to be a normal girl who had time for frivolity?

I quashed the thought immediately, too tired to let it take root.

Why fight the wave? I just had to ride it.

Settling back on my pillow, I once again closed my eyes and let the languorous effects of postorgasmic lassitude steal over me. Strangely, as my mind once again stretched fingers toward my deep subconscious, the whisper of a gentle caress down my cheek didn’t frighten me.



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Danube Adele wrote her first romance at the age of seven when she penned the story of her dogs falling in love and having puppies. She’s been dreaming up romantic tales ever since. A lifetime resident of southern California, she spends time playing at the beach, camping in Joshua Tree National Park, and hiking Mammoth Mountain.

Always a lover of adventure, she and her husband took their sons on a cross country road trip to Florida and back in an old VW Westfalia, that had no A/C, in the month of July, and still, it continues to be the best trip they ever took. Extensive travel and trying new things has kept the creative spark alive. Danube lives in Claremont with her biggest fans, her loving husband, amazing and wonderful identical twin sons, and a teddy bear of a Rottweiler.

Her debut novel, Quicksilver Dreams, Book 1 of the Dreamwalker series was officially released January 6, 2014.



Monday, February 24, 2014

Character Interview with Calum MacLeod of Captured by The Pirate Laird – Squeal!

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Squeal!! Not only did I get to read about the absolutely amazing Calum Macleod, but I got to interview him as well! Oh My!! “Faning herself” Now enough of this fan girl moment, lets get to the dreamy oh so sexy Calum!



Character Name: Calum MacLeod

Character Bio: Born in the Scottish Highlands, 1532. Laird and Chieftain of Clan MacLeod on the Isle of Raasay. Calum is the third son of the MacLeod Chieftain on the Isle of Lewis, but he was given the title to Raasay and left with nothing but a ship, a crumbling keep and a bit of rock. To keep the clan alive, he’s had no choice but to turn to piracy—privateering as he’d rather call it.


Describe yourself what is your worst and best quality?

Och, why dunna ye ask me something about me ship, me keep, or me island? *grumbles* I’m an achiever. I get things done…but if ye dunna like it, ye might find yer arse dumped overboard so ye can swim back to yer ma.

What is the one thing you wish other people knew about you?

*sideways glance and chuckles* I’m a pirate. There are a lot of things I’d prefer people dunna ken about me. Though when I’m in a pub, I’d rather the big men leave me be. If they knew I could best them from the start, they just might live.

What is your biggest secret something no one knows about?

Then it wouldn’t be a secret, would it now, lass? A man of honor doesna reveal his secrets to anyone.

What are you most afraid of?

Me? Yer serious? *scratches chin* I do have but one fear. If Lady Anne should leave me, I dunna ken how I’d survive.

What do you want more than anything?

I want me clan to be healthy and prosper. But above all, I want to hold Lady Anne in me arms through eternity.

What is your relationship status?

At the beginning of Captured by the Pirate Laird, I was a confirmed bachelor…but as the story progresses, you’ll see how smitten I become by the ravishing Lady Anne.

How would you describe your sense of fashion?

A linen shirt and a woolen plaid. I might use a sealskin cloak if weather warrants. But I never leave the keep without me claymore strapped to me back and a dirk in me belt.

How much of a rebel are you?

I’m a pirate. Exactly how rebellious do you ye want me to be? I fight for right, I protect women and me own. If anyone dare cross me, I will show no mercy. That is a certainty nary a soul will argue.

What do you considered to be your greatest achievement?

Pulling me clan from the brink of starvation to a thriving community of Highlanders.

What is your idea of happiness?

Surrounded by kin with fine whisky and food aplenty.

What is your current state of mind?

Are ye insinuating that I’m daft? Cause if ye are, I might ask ye to step outside.

What is your most treasured possession?

’Tis a simple thing, really. But I must admit the kerchief Lady Anne embroidered with the MacLeod crest means more to me than a whole treasure chest of silver.

What is your most marked characteristic?

Marked? I suppose that’d have to be me back. Lord Wharton had me whipped within an inch of me life, and now I bear the scars as a testament to his brutality.

What is it that you most dislike?

Lying, thieving, pox-ridden bastards.

Which living person do you, most despise?

Lord Wharton…at least he was alive.

What is your greatest regret?

That I didna plead with Lady Anne to stay in Raasay. I wanted her to with all my heart. I just didna realize how much she did as well.

What is the quality you most like in a man?


What is the quality you most like in a woman?


Who is your favorite hero in fiction?


Which living person do you most admire?

Lady Anne.

If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be?

I’m chieftain of me island. Why would I ever change anything about meself? *drums fingers* Och, I supposed there’s one thing. Me motto has always been, “Why settle with words that which could be solved with a claymore.” Perhaps I might try words more often in me old age.

Once again thank you for the interview.

*winks with a grin* Thank ye for having me. Yer a brave lassie to come before the likes of me.

Oh yeah this girl really got her fix for the day! If you want to know more about Calum head on over to the blast for Captured By The Pirate Laird.

Book Blitz, Giveaway and Review- Captured by the Pirate Laird by @amyjarecki

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clip_image002Captured by the Pirate Laird

Highland Force

Book One

Amy Jarecki

Genre: Scottish Historical Romance

Date of Publication: 2/17/14



Number of pages: 342

Word Count: 96,600

Cover Artist: Kim Killion



Book Description:

Wed by proxy to a baron old enough to be her grandfather, Lady Anne trudges up the gangway of a galleon that will deliver her into the arms of a tyrant. Crestfallen, she believes her disastrous life cannot get worse—until she awakes to the blasts of cannon fire.

Facing certain death, Anne trembles in her stateroom while swords clash and the chilling screams of battle rage on the deck above. When a rugged Highlander kicks in her door, she prays for a swift end.

But Laird Calum MacLeod has a reason for plundering the ship—and it’s not a stunning English lass. With no other choice, he takes Anne to his crumbling keep on the isle of Raasay and sends a letter of ransom to her husband. In time, Anne grows to understand MacLeod’s plight and finds it increasingly difficult to resist Calum’s unsettling charm—until the baron sends a reply agreeing to terms.

Ripped from passion that will be forever seared into their souls, will Anne and Calum risk everything for love?



She turned and caught him staring. He bowed and his heart melted when she smiled—a smile with dimples that could light up the horizon. He half expected Anne to turn up her pert little nose and head the other way.

Before he could persuade himself otherwise, Calum pattered down the steps and stood beside her. She watched the sunset and her warmth pulled him close like a magnet.

“’Tis beautiful,” she said when the sky shone with orange and pink, highlighted against the strips of clouds that sailed toward the ship.

He inhaled. Her scent ever so feminine, Calum inclined his head to capture more of it. “Aye, milady.”

She placed her hand on the rail. Again his reflexes took over and he rested his palm atop it. Calum expected her to snatch it away, but she did not. Her fingers were cold and he held his much warmer hand there as a comfort. They stood in silence as the sun glowed orange-red on the horizon. He wanted to stand there forever—touching her. Barely breathing, he watched the sun disappear and held his hand still, unwilling to move it.

The sun was replaced by darkness. Lady Anne slipped her hand out from under his and the dark of the evening took up residence inside him. She was not his to lust after. “May I walk you to your stateroom?”

“Yes.” Her voice sounded husky. Had she felt the connection too? Of course not.

Calum offered his arm and that same small, cold hand grasped it. “We’ll arrive at Raasay in the morning.”

“Our destination?”


“Bran told me.”

Secrets were impossible to keep on a ship. “I will send a letter of ransom to yer husband upon our arrival.” He didn’t like how that sounded—ye are my prisoner until Lord Wharton pays for your release. But that’s how it had to be. If he sailed up the mouth of the River Aln, he would incite yet another war between Scotland and England—and this time his countrymen might side with the enemy.

When they stepped into the corridor, warm air relaxed the tension in his shoulders.

Anne stopped outside her cabin door, breasts straining against her bodice with every breath. “I’ve never met him.”

Calum forced himself to concentrate on her face. “Who?”

“Lord Wharton.”

“What? How?”

“We were wed by proxy. My uncle made the arrangements.”

Ah Jesus. Calum understood the way of highborn marriages, arranged for the trade of lands and riches. “Ye ken he’s old enough to be your father?”

“He’s three times my age plus one year to be exact. His children are older than I.”

A hundred questions flooded his mind. “Why?” he clipped with shocked disbelief.

Anne nodded as if fully understanding his monosyllabic inquiry. “I’m told the Baron fancied me from across Westminster Abbey during the Queen’s coronation.”

“No.” She doesn’t even know the bastard. That’s why she wears no ring.

“Yes. My uncle said he kissed my hand, yet so many lords greeted me on that trip to London, I’m at a loss to place him.”

The despair in her lovely eyes twisted around his heart. “Mayhap ye will remember if we playact it.” With a halfcocked grin, Calum reached for her hand. His mouth went dry when her silken skin met the rough pads of his fingertips. Though a grown woman, her fingers were fine and delicate.

When she didn’t pull away, he moistened his lips and bowed. Hovering above her hand, the soft scent of honeysuckle mixed with her—the unmistakable scent of woman now more captivating than it had been on the deck—ignited his insides as if she stood naked before him. Closing his eyes, he touched his lips to the back of her hand and kissed. Anne’s sharp inhale made his skin shiver with gooseflesh. She did not try to pull away but remained so still, her pulse beat a fierce rhythm beneath.

Calum held his lips there longer than necessary. He wanted this moment to linger. He wanted a memory he could cherish long after she was gone. His eyes locked with hers as he straightened. Her lips parted slightly, almost as if asking him to kiss her mouth, but he knew she wouldn’t want that.

He stood for a moment not saying a word. She did too.

“Any recollection?” His voice rasped.

“No.” Her voice low, she then blinked as if snapping back to the present. “You mustn’t ever do that again.”

“Apologies, milady.” Grinning, he opened her door and bowed, though he did not regret her lack of recall.

Anne stepped into her stateroom. Calum could not pull his gaze away until the door closed and blocked the bewilderment reflected in her sapphire eyes. Calum waited a moment and stared at the hardwood door—the same one he had kicked in five nights ago. What the hell was he doing?

He ground his teeth and headed back to the quarterdeck. He needed to get the lady out of his life. She was not his to care for. Worst of all, she had wed the enemy.




Captured by the Pirate Laird (Highland Force, #1)Captured by the Pirate Laird by Amy Jarecki
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Absolutely fabulous!!

Anne’s uncle have arranged a proxy marriage between her and Lord Wharton. She embarks on the ship The Flying Swan to set sail to a man she has never met, and known to be powerful. Scared and uncertain, Anne keeps to her quarters on the ship, waiting and fearing her future. Then all hell breaks loose on the ship as it’s invaded by pirates.

When the pirate captain Calum bursts through her door, she is prepared to protect herself and completely takes Calum by surprise. But a lady on board was the last thing Laird Calum expected when he set deck on the Flying Swan. What to do with her was the question? He decides to ransom her off and set sail for his homeland.

The plan was simple, get the ransom for her and deliver her to her murderous husband. But when Calum and Anne finds themselves in each other’s embrace, the plan suddenly doesn’t seem all that grand, and Calum doesn’t want to let Anne go. But to keep her would bring doom to his people, he has no choice but to deliver his heart to his enemy, or does he?

What a wonderful and amazing read this was! I was so captured by this story that I read this book in one day! Anne is a groom and proper lady but don’t underestimate her. She captures not only the heart of Laird Calum, but also his people and fall helplessly in love with all of them and Scotland. She is strong and determined, yet still keep her grace and head in a few situations. Near the end of the story, Anne sets aside her ladyship and takes on the role of a woman fighting for her love ones.

I love Scottish men, just love them! I love everything Scottish! And Calum just made it even more epic. He was such a gentlemen through the whole story, and yet he also provided some intense moments, keeping the storyline intriguing. He’s devotion for his people and soon Anne was just heartwarming and beautiful. He was the perfect hero!

A well written novel with an amazing plot. Amy’s descriptive detail within the book made me feel as if I was right there in the middle of everything. Great writing from the author. I was so excited to see that this was just the first in what I can only believe would be an amazing series. I am definitely watching out for number two in this series. Well done and a whopping 5 Stars from me.

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10 eBook copies Captured by the Pirate Laird by Amy Jarecki

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clip_image004Amy has won multiple writing awards and lives in Utah with her husband, Bob. She writes contemporary romance and Scottish historical romance. For fun, she hikes, bikes and plays a mean game of golf. Born in California, Amy holds an MBA from Heriot-Watt University in Edinburgh, Scotland.

Web site:


Twitter: @amyjarecki