Monday, June 30, 2014

SPOTLIGHT for ASHES OF WAR by LIA DAVIS









Ashes of War
Sons of War, book 2
By Lia Davis

Genre: paranormal romance
Tags: romance, fantasy, paranormal, shapeshifter, dragons, Sons of War

Buy Links: 

Blurb

Ashlynn Blake, minor goddess of the hunt—lethal, beautiful, and able to connect with animals on a psychic level—is the perfect person to place judgment upon an accused dragon. But first she has to prove to the gods that Ty Sullivan is innocent of his crimes. If she fails, she’s doomed to lose her heart along with him forever.
Ty’s been beaten, scarred, and betrayed by females. He doesn’t trust them, can’t stand being around them for longer than he or his dragon needs to be. Yet, when he meets Ashlynn, his dragon is ready to mate, but the man believes she’s no different than the others.
The Fates have thrown them together, forcing secrets to be told and igniting a passion so fierce it may destroy both of them.

Excerpt:
A twig snapped and he whirled to face the intruder. As soon as the redheaded goddess came into to full view, he froze and his heart pounded. Her hair hung in silky waves around her shoulders and her green eyes sparkled like emeralds. He let his gaze travel down her body. A tight black V-neck sweater and black jeans clung to her modest curves and his palms itched to touch her, to see if she was real.
“Are you going to stand there and stare at me all day?” Ashlynn stepped toward him, her expression a mysterious blend of coyness and invitation.
The dragon snapped his teeth and paced beneath his skin. A hot, dizzying rush of desire filled him. Ashlynn’s strawberry scent called to the beast, stirring a fiery need only she could calm. Every day and night she’d been gone, the dragon grew more impatient. Seeing her, being close enough they could touch in two long strides didn’t ease some of the darkness he succumbed to over the past weeks. No, being close to her raised a need within him that drove his dragon insane with lust.
The man had no intentions on claiming the female. Not yet, anyway. How did he know she could be trusted?
With a low growl to warn the dragon to back the fuck off, Ty watched her pass him to stare at the ruins. “Where have you been?” he gritted out.
She took a deep breath before answering. “At my mother’s. Healing.”
“Sounds like she lives nearby.”
She turned to look at him, brows raised. “What if she did?”
He growled and took one step forward, wrapped an arm around her waist to jerk her against him. Her body meshed into his, electrifying each nerve ending, and he tried to ignore how perfectly she fit against him. “Don’t play with me, female.”
A sensual smile lifted her full, kissable lips. “Oh, believe me, I haven’t begun to play. Yet.”

Bio:
Lia Davis is the author of the bestselling shifter series, Ashwood Falls, a mother to two young adults and three kitties, a wife to her soul mate, and co-owner to Fated Desires Publishing, LLC. She and her family live in Northeast Florida battling hurricanes and very humid summers. But it’s her home and she loves it!
An accounting major, Lia has always been a dreamer with a very active imagination. The wheels in her head never stop. She ventured into the world of writing and publishing in 2008 and loves it more than she imagined. Writing is stress reliever that allows her to go off in her corner of the house and enter into another world that she created, leaving real life where it belongs.
Her favorite things are spending time with family, traveling, reading, writing, chocolate, coffee, nature and hanging out with her kitties.

Social media links:
Get your eBook personalized at Authorgraph. http://www.authorgraph.com/authors/novelsbylia





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Sunday, June 29, 2014

REVIEW for Borealis Ardor by Kay Phoenix







Book Blurb 

Lauren Madison’s life started unraveling at a speed too fast for her to keep up with. Every truth she had taken for granted was torn away, and the pieces that were left painted no clear pictures at all…only more confusion. 
The only pillar of strength in her fragile life was David Wagner, her bodyguard who was placed in witness protection. But, what had he seen that day, and why couldn’t she remember? 
She had no choice but to run. And if her life was threatened again, who would be there to protect her?


My Thoughts

Kay Phoenix ' s Borealis Ardor was an exceptional read.  The moment I flipped the first page I was hooked, wanting to know more about her characters. Lauren thinks David is in the witness protection program, but is he?  She finds herself deep in a situation that dredges up an issue of lost memories.  She wants answers and wants them now. I promise you will also want to know the answers to Lauren’s questions. Reading this book, I fell in head first and by the last page I begged for more.  The author’s writing kept me entranced in the words on the pages, and I look forward to more from this up and coming author.


Follow Kay Phoenix @

www.kayphoenix. com

Thursday, June 5, 2014

BLITZ or DARKKNIGHT by CHRISTINE POPE



Darknight
The Witches of Cleopatra Hill
Book 2
Christine Pope

Genre: Paranormal romance

Publisher: Dark Valentine Press

Date of Publication: 6/5/2014

ISBN: 978-0692217504
ASIN:

Number of pages:
Word Count: 90,000

Cover Artist: Indie Author Services

Book Description:

Kidnapped by a rival witch clan, Angela McAllister envisions a dark future for herself until she discovers her captor’s brother is the unknown man who has haunted her dreams since she was a child.

Forced to re-evaluate everything she’s ever known about the Wilcox witches, Angela begins to explore the powerful connection that binds her to Connor Wilcox, despite the generations of hostility between their families and the disapproval of those closest to her. 

And when a dark, malignant force arises, Angela knows she must draw on her growing powers as prima to protect enemies and allies alike…even if her choice threatens to tear her new and fragile love apart.

Darknight is the second book in the Witches of Cleopatra Hill, a paranormal romance trilogy set in the haunted town of Jerome, Arizona.


Excerpt From Chapter 1

“So you talk to dead people?” he asked.
“Yes, I communicate with earthbound spirits, if that’s what you mean by ghosts,” I said primly.
Once again, he didn’t rise to the bait. “That’s interesting. And no, to answer your previous question, I’ve never seen her. No cold spots, no personal items moved around, no nothing. Not that my talent is conversing with the spirit world.”
“And what is your talent, Connor?”
A cloud seemed to pass over his face, but then he replied, his tone casual, “Nothing so spectacular, I assure you.”
“Well, it has to be pretty good, to be able to hide the fact that you’re a warlock.” That was something which had been troubling me ever since I realized he’d managed to hide his true identity so well. Normally, I should have sensed that he was a member of a witch clan from the very moment I met him, even if I couldn’t have known he was a Wilcox. But I’d felt nothing. He’d seemed like a civilian to me…up until the moment he bent down to give me the consort’s kiss.
Voice even, he replied, “That wasn’t me. That was Damon’s spell.”
“Damon’s quite the multi-tasker, isn’t he? Any other little tricks I should know about?”
He gave a humorless laugh. “A few. But I don’t think we need to talk about that now.”
“Fine,” I said. I could tell from his expression, the tight look to his mouth, that he wouldn’t appreciate any prodding on that subject from me. “But we do need to talk, don’t you think? I mean, last night you said we would ‘hash this over in the morning.’ Well, it’s almost noon, and you haven’t said much of anything except to tell me where the bagels are.”
Surprisingly, he said, “You’re right. Take these” —and he handed the white paper bag holding the sandwiches to me— “and I’ll get some plates and water and stuff.”
The first floor of the apartment was pretty much open-plan in style, except a few closed doors that might be a guest bath and a coat closet. The dining area sat just on the other side of the bar of granite that acted as a sort of separator from the kitchen, so I went there and settled myself in one of the heavy wooden chairs. Like the table, they were simple, almost rustic in appearance, but that didn’t fool me. I’d spent too much time shopping for furniture recently not to know that they, like almost everything else in the apartment, had not been cheap.
Connor came out of the kitchen carrying a couple of glasses and a bottle of Evian water, along with some brown earthenware plates. He set everything down at the table, then seated himself across from me. Probably just as well that he didn’t sit directly beside me; one brush of his knee against mine under the table, and I would’ve been in serious trouble.
After he sat he busied himself with pulling the paper napkins and the sandwiches out of the bag, not really looking at me as he set a sandwich wrapped in white paper down on my plate. “I didn’t know what you’d eat, so I got you smoked turkey with provolone. Hope that’s okay.”
“It’s fine,” I said. The bagel notwithstanding, I was ravenous. Probably my body trying to make up for all the energy it had lost last night through stress and sleep deprivation.
He poured some water into my glass, then did the same with his. After that there wasn’t much left for him to do except eat. He began to unwrap his sandwich.
“Eat first, then talk?” I asked. It was pretty obvious that he really didn’t want to have this conversation.
Something that was almost but not quite a sigh escaped his lips before he set the sandwich back down on his plate. “I just want you to know that none of this was my idea.”
“I had a feeling,” I said wryly, “considering you can barely even make yourself look at me.”
This time he did glance up, and I had to hold myself steady as the eyes I had dreamed of so often met mine, and held. The muscles in his jaw visibly tightened. “I want to look at you,” he said. “It’s just…dangerous.”

About the Author:

A native of Southern California, Christine Pope has been writing stories ever since she commandeered her family’s Smith-Corona typewriter back in the sixth grade. Her short fiction has appeared in Astonishing Adventures, Luna Station Quarterly, and the journal of dark fiction, Dark Valentine. Two of her short stories have been nominated for the Pushcart Prize.

Christine writes as the mood takes her, and her work includes paranormal romance, and fantasy and science fiction/space opera romance. She blames this on being easily distracted by bright, shiny objects, which could also account for the size of her shoe collection. After spending many years in the magazine publishing industry, she now works as a freelance editor and graphic designer in addition to writing fiction. She fell in love with Sedona, Arizona, while researching the Sedona Trilogy and now makes her home there, surrounded by the red rocks. No alien sightings, though...not yet, anyway!







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