Tuesday, 17 August 2021

My Ruin by Sapna Bhog

 


The bonds of family are unbreakable.

From bestselling Author Sapna Bhog comes a new romance series of friendship, loyalty and betrayal.
He never expected to run into her…
SHAURYA RAJPOOT is a man of many secrets. A sudden meeting with Myra Gupta changes the course of his life. Bound by a vow to his family, Shaurya keeps her at a distance…until she shatters all the barriers between them. Staying away from her soon becomes impossible, resisting her…unimaginable. 
She wasn’t prepared for him…
After losing the only man she ever loved, MYRA GUPTA has gone through life barely living and merely surviving. But all that changes when she meets Shaurya Rajpoot. Fascinated and intrigued by him, Myra is drawn by his loyalty, silent strength and quiet reserve. She yearns to get to know him better. However his past, his family and their bitter history keeps getting in the way of them being together. 
But when the past collides with the present and secrets are revealed, will love be enough? Or will one lie—the biggest deception of all—destroy Shaurya and Myra forever?

Book Links:
Goodreads * Amazon.in * Amazon.com


Read an Excerpt from My Ruin


Foolish.
It was nothing but foolishness to have been watching her for the last ten minutes. But the moment he’d spotted her on his iPad screen, he hadn’t been able to stop himself. He’d wanted to see her again.
God! She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Dark hair flowing down her back, the skin of one bare shoulder glistening like gold under the muted lights and those never-ending legs. His heart dipped. She was stunning. And then there were those red pouty lips. 
Fuck! Those red lips would be his undoing.
He’d been so busy taking her in that he hadn’t even realized she’d found him too. He backed away and then turned, heading towards the small private entrance that he and his brothers used to access the restaurant. He rounded a corner, heading towards a locked door.
Just as he put his finger on the keypad lock, he heard her soft voice.
“Wait, please,” she begged.
Cursing himself for his stupidity, he began to slowly turn. She took a tentative step towards him, staring at him like he was the answer to everything she’d ever desired. She halted less than a foot away, studying him, taking in every inch of him. She opened her mouth and closed it, unable to speak a word and then she wet her lips instead.
His eyes zeroed in on her mouth and his mind screamed with the urge to close the distance between them and pull her to him. To breathe her in. To taste those lips.
Fuck! Nothing in his life had prepared him for such madness. Such insanity. 
 Suddenly, the smoke alarm rang aloud and in the next second the lights went off.
She gasped.
There was nothing but pitch darkness everywhere and the smoke alarm blazing around him. He whipped his head around. What the fuck? Why had the backup generator not kicked in yet?
Something was seriously wrong. Thankfully there didn’t seem to be a fire. He couldn’t smell any smoke. However, for some bizarre reason the smoke detector had been activated and the lights had gone off. All this, he noted, had managed to incite fear and chaos among the people. In the distance he could hear someone screaming, glasses breaking and foots stomping as people rushed to the exit.
A second later the space around him was filled with the dull green light from the keypad of the security panel of the door beside him. Thankfully that was connected to another system. In the dim light, he caught the worry lining her face.
The door screeched. Heart thundering, he grabbed her arm and hauled her behind him, standing in front of her—alert and prepared to face whatever threat came his way. With the strange incident of the lights going off and then the backup not coming on, he didn’t trust who’d walk in through that door and he didn’t want to take any chances.
A bright white light shone on his face.
He raised his fists, ready to battle the intruder.
“Relax, brother,” Vihaan placated, sounding amused. He lowered his phone flash light. “It’s only me.”
Exhaling a harsh breath, Shaurya gave him a quiet nod. Vihaan angled his head and raised the phone to the woman standing silently behind Shaurya. Even in the shadows, Shaurya could make out the grimace on his brother’s face.
He would most certainly hear about this.
“I’ll check on what’s happening inside,” Vihaan finally said. “Join me when you’re done. It’s not a fire for sure.”
Relieved to hear that, Shaurya ushered her quickly outside the same door Vihaan had entered from. They crossed another dark corridor. Shaurya could navigate these hallways without a light, but he switched on his phone flash light, nonetheless. At the end of the passage, he opened another door and they stepped into the back alley of the building. Muted streetlights paved their way forward as he silently escorted Myra to the front of the building.
“Wait,” she said, halting. “Tiya, my friend, is inside. I need to make sure she’s safe.” 
She immediately removed her phone from her purse and called someone. He heard her speak in soft tones to her friend. And only once the two of them were convinced the other was safe, did Myra hang up.
“She’s fine,” Myra announced with a sigh. “She’s waiting outside the restaurant for me.”
Shaurya started in that direction, when he heard her say, “Wait, please.”
Frowning, he pivoted. 
 “I just…I just want to talk to you for a minute.” She took a step closer to him.  “Who…who are you?”
He remained silent, hating himself for being in this situation. He didn’t need any distractions at this point in life and this woman would become a major distraction if he allowed it. What was worse was that she was working for the enemy. And he couldn’t and wouldn’t betray his family by getting further entangled with her. 
Without replying he started forward again, but she caught his arm. Heat from her hand radiated right into his skin, leaving a trail of fire. She dropped her hand away, as if burnt.
She wet her lips. “Have we met before?”
God! She was relentless.
“We did meet briefly at the airport.” His lips curved. “Have you forgotten I helped you gather your stuff?”
Her cheeks pinkened. “Of course, I haven’t forgotten that. What I mean is…have we met prior to today?”
He stayed quiet assessing her while she too kept watching him in that deeply intense way of hers.
She tilted her head to the side. “You don’t talk much, do you?”
“Let’s go.” He splayed a hand out in the front. “You said your friend is waiting.”
“No, I just need a moment to figure out where I’ve met you before.”
“I assure you that we haven’t met...”
She chewed on her lower lip, thinking for a moment. “You feel so…so familiar.”
“You’re mistaken.”
“What is your name?” she pressed.
He looked heavenward. “Do you ever give up?”
She lifted her jaw, stubbornly.
He sighed. “Shaurya Rajpoot.”
“Shaurya,” she breathed out. And then she held her hand out. “Myra Gupta.”
Their hands touched and once again a spark flared on his skin. Her wide eyes rushed to his. It was clear that she had felt it too.
Removing his hand, he said, “Shall we?”
She fell into step with him.
“Are you single? Can we meet somewhere for coffee?” She soldiered on. “I mean not now, but tomorrow perhaps.”
His eyes rounded. “Are you always so direct?”
“When I need to be,” she stated.
They reached the end of the alley. Several people were crowded on the pavement outside the restaurant. 
Shaurya faced her. “I am single, but you seem to have forgotten that you aren’t.” He tipped his chin to her left hand. “And I don’t dally with engaged women.”
Her eyes flared with hurt. But it had to be said. He couldn’t meet her again, no matter how much he wished it so and the fact was that she was engaged. 
Without another word, she marched forward. He waited until she found her friend. The two of them hailed a passing cab. They climbed in and were soon out of his sight.



About the Author:
Sapna Bhog is an author from India who writes contemporary and historical romance novels. As a self-proclaimed die-hard romantic, her books are filled with swoon-worthy heroes and feisty heroines who clash all the time, but do get their happy ever after. Sapna has always surrounded herself with books and when she is not writing she is reading. Originally from Dubai, she now lives in Western India with her husband, kids and a Siberian Husky. Sapna gave up a successful IT career and took a foray into writing and has never looked back since. Her favourite pastimes are reading, writing, traveling and shopping—not necessarily in that order. She loves to hear from readers.

Sapna on the Web:
Twitter * Facebook * Instagram




Friday, 13 August 2021

The Breakthrough: 11 Trailblazers. One Movement. by Megha Bajaj

 


We all want happiness and success and keep chasing both throughout our lives. However, only 4-5 per cent of people in the entire world end up becoming successful and from among them less than 1 per cent become successful and happy. What is the secret power that propels these people to the top of the pyramid? What makes them who they are?
Author Megha Bajaj set out on a journey and visited different parts of the country and discovered 11 such individuals who were truly happy and successful. She realized that in a country of 1.3 billion people these individuals had one thing in common—they had the rare ability to turn an ordinary event into a significant one and then turn that into a ‘breakthrough’.
They seize the moment when there is nothing perceptible to seize; they look at the present and create a future; they realize that the Supreme Power is always there, only if one believes unfailingly, surrenders completely and works tirelessly. Meet Nitin, Asha, Arun, Chitra, Sandeep, Kanni, Uvaraj, Guru, Kavish, Mukesh, Praburam and Sushiil.
Even during the worst possible time the world has ever seen, the book will put you on the path to many wonderful things and a life full of contentment.

Book Link:
Goodreads * Amazon.in * Amazon.com


Read this book:

  • If you want to find excitement in the ordinary;
  • To realize that you need to keep moving regardless of success or failure;
  • To ask yourself: When was the last time you did something for the first time;
  • To understand why each human being is a co-creator of his or her own destiny;
  • To find out why even the sky is not enough for your imagination;
  • To accept the fact that life will keep jumping at you and keep saying, ‘Surprise!’;
  • To learn how to get rid of desperation and let everything just happen;
  • To realize that results may be delayed, but never denied;
  • To discover that the answer to all your troubles lies within you;
  • To keep expanding your Life Mantra;
  • To keep learning.


The Breakthrough - Song


The Publishing Journey: (Click on the photo to read the article)




About the Author:

Megha Bajaj is a Bestselling author of the book, The Breakthrough (Rupa). In the past, she has penned several acclaimed and award-winning books including Thank You, Cancer (Hay House), I Inspire (Jaico) and Happiness in the Age of Ambition (Rupa). She has written over a thousand articles for internationally acclaimed magazines and newspapers. Megha is a well-loved speaker and has been invited to premier institutes to share her insights. She was the youngest speaker at The World Confluence of Spirituality and Humanity for two consecutive years. Megha is also writing film scripts for prominent production houses and best knows herself as an ardent seeker.


Megha on the Web:
Website * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * LinkedIn







Thursday, 12 August 2021

Sought by Aline Hunter



The Wolf's Den, Book #3

Paranormal Romance

Date Published: August 13, 2021

Publisher: Renrut Publishing



There can be light in the dark...

Shane Heyward left everything behind to find his mate. He struggled for months, following his wolf to her location, guided to a place where supernatural beings exist and thrive. Despite being capable of leading his own pack, he chose to join one. When he finds his mate by accident, he's shaken by the truth. Not only is she blind, the wolf within her is completely feral. If he can't help her take control of the beast, she'll have to be destroyed.

Luna Lowe was forced to leave her previous pack after she shifted, attacked, and almost killed two members—one of which was her sister. She's ashamed of her behavior, wondering if death is preferable to living alone, when the male she believed abandoned her due to her lack of sight arrives.

As Shane and Luna come together, he learns her history. His female was wronged, and the insult has to be dealt with swiftly and harshly. As he takes charge and seeks retribution, reverting to his Alpha nature, everything will change—for both of them.



Excerpt

"Don't you dare be ashamed of the way you respond to me." Shane knew the moment Luna's excitement changed to mortification. Since he didn't want that, he lifted her hand and skimmed his lips over her knuckles. "Whatever you're thinking about, I can do. In fact, I'd like to do whatever you're thinking about and more."

She drew a ragged breath, and he glanced at her.

Her cheeks were rosy and pink, matching her full lips.

Damn it to hell.

Her light touch was tentative but curious. He imagined what her fingers would feel like drifting over his back and chest. He wanted to experience them buried in his hair. She kept her nails neat and tidy, but they were just long enough that he'd notice if she buried them in his flesh. He'd find out how that felt soon enough. She had to accept the mating and him first. Afterward, when she felt comfortable, there were so many things he wanted to do to her.

He was a deviant bastard.

A new fragrance filled the air.

When he placed it, he almost pulled over, so he could face her dead-on.

She was still aroused, but she was also extremely upset about something.

"If you mate me, you're stuck," she whispered. "There's no going back."

She didn't think she was worthy of him. He'd realized that when she'd asked him if he hadn't come to her because she couldn't see. She'd had months to think that very thing. By now, she likely believed he'd abandoned her because she wasn't good enough.

He'd let her get away with a lot, but never that.



About The Author

Aline Hunter has written stories featured in horror magazines, zombie romance anthologies, and flash fiction contests. Her work has a dark undertone, which she credits to her love of old horror films, tastes in music, and choices in reading, and has been described as “full of sensual promise,” “gritty and sexy,” and “a breath of fresh air.”

You can visit her online at www.alinehunter.com


Contact Links

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Purchase Links

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RABT Book Tours & PR

Tuesday, 10 August 2021

The Journalist by David Gardner

The Journalist by David Gardner Banner

The Journalist

A Paranormal Thriller

by David Gardner

August 1-31, 2021 Tour

Synopsis:

The Journalist by David Gardner

If Jeff can't save his ghostly ancestors from disappearing, so will he.

Writing for a cheesy Boston tabloid, Jeff Beekle fabricates a whimsical tale about a mob-built CIA prison for ghosts.

Which turns out to be true.

Now both the mob and the CIA have Jeff in their sights.

Even worse, Jeff discovers that his great-grandmother is an inmate and that she and the other spectral residents are being groomed as CIA spies. (And why not? They're invisible, draw no salary, and won't hop into bed with enemy agents.)

To his horror, Jeff learns that ancestors held too long in earthly captivity will vanish as if never born, taking with them all their descendants, which includes him.

Can Jeff outwit the mob and the CIA, free his ghostly ancestors, destroy the prison and save himself?

Book Details:

Genre: Humorous Paranormal Thriller
Published by: Encircle Publications, LLC
Publication Date: February 10th 2021
Number of Pages: 322
ISBN: 164599144X (ISBN13: 9781645991441)
Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads

Book Trailer of The Journalist:

Read an excerpt:

Chapter 1

SCORPIO Oct. 23 – Nov. 21
Your ancestors are the raw material of your being, but who you become is your responsibility alone. Learn to turn your troubles into opportunities. Today is a good day to defrag your hard drive.

He hovers in the doorway at the far end of the newsroom, his feet not touching the floor. When he spots me, he glides forward, trailing diaphanous versions of himself that become smaller and smaller until they disappear. He wears leather chaps, an oversized black cowboy hat and high-heeled boots that almost bring him up to five feet. He has leathery skin and a drooping gray mustache.

It’s my great-great-grandfather Hiram Beekle, back for another ghostly visit.

He first showed up when I was six years old, right after I shot and killed my stepfather.

I’m the only one who can see him, hear him, talk to him.

As a kid, I would wet my pants and run away whenever Hiram showed up. Now he’s just a pain in the ass.

I turn back to my keyboard, hoping he’ll go away. I’m not in the mood for advice, taunts, prods, complaints, boasts.

He showed up last week to tell me to quit my job and find something better. Same thing the week before and the week before that. Probably why he’s back today.

I have to admit he’s right, but I’m sure as hell not going to tell him that.

Just four months ago I was a hot-shot investigative reporter for the Boston Globe. Now I write for a tacky supermarket tabloid, the Boston Tattler. Its newsroom is an open bay on the second floor of a ratty building that once served as a cheese warehouse that on humid days still smells of camembert. Out front are the marketing and distribution people, along with the office of the publisher, my Uncle Sid. Only he would hire a disgraced journalist like me.

I churn out fanciful tales about creatures from outer space, Elvis sightings and remedies for double chins. Some readers believe my stuff and some don’t. Those in between ride the wave of the fun and nonsensical and don’t care whether the stuff they’re reading is true or not.

Our larger rivals concentrate on noisy Hollywood breakups and soap-opera stars with gambling addictions. The worst of our competitors traffic in fake political conspiracies. But Uncle Sid stays with alien visitors, kitten pictures and herbal cures for chin wattles. He likes to point out that kittens and spacemen don’t sue. He’s been sued too often.

I type:

Although local sportswriters puzzle over the inconsistencies of Red Sox hurlers, the shocking truth is that—

“That’s crap, Jeff.”

Hiram has drifted around behind me to peer over my shoulder.

“Try ‘terrifying’,” he adds. “‘Shocking’ is overused.”

Hiram pretends he’d been a cowpoke, but in fact made a living writing pulp westerns.

I look around to see if anyone is watching, then turn back to Hiram and whisper, “Is that why you’re here, to dispense advice on adjectives?”

“That and to let you know I sense danger.”

“You’re always sensing danger. Just last week, you told me than an earthquake was…”

I stop whispering when Sherwood shuffles over, coffee cup in hand. He’s a doughy, middle-aged man who reads the dictionary for pleasure. “Another tale about space critters, Jeff?”

“A follow-up to last week’s. It’s Uncle Sid’s idea. He loved the national exposure.”

Sherwood nods. “You knocked that one out of the ballpark.”

Sherwood loves sports metaphors but hates sports.

One of my stories from the week before somehow got into the hands of a particularly dim U.S. Congressman who scrambled onto the floor of the House of Representatives to fume against the government agency for hiring a mob-controlled construction company to build a prison for creatures from the planet Ook-239c.

I kick off my sneakers, tilt back my chair and put my bare feet up on my desk. “What’re you working on today?”

“I’ve got a TV chef who’s gone on a hunger strike, identical twin sisters in Chattanooga who’ve been secretly exchanging husbands for fourteen years, and an eight-year-old boy in Brisbane who can predict the future by licking truck tires—the usual stuff.” Sherwood takes a gulp of coffee, shrugs, sighs. “Do you ever wonder what you’re doing with your life?”

“Sometimes. But who doesn’t?”

Again Sherwood sighs. I’ve never known anyone to sigh so often. His wife ran off with a termite inspector a few years back, and soon afterward he lost his professorship and his house. Sherwood was put on the earth as an example of what I don’t want to become.

“You should look for another job,” I say.

Sherwood shrugs, then ambles back to his desk. He doesn’t want another job because it would make him feel better.

But I want a better job so badly that I dream I’ve found one, then wake up to reality.

Hiram floats around front and shakes his head. “The little guy’s right—you should get a better job. And for that, you need to get that darn Pulitzer back.”

I delete ‘shocking’ and type ‘terrifying.’ “Think I’m not trying?”

“Try harder. Young people these days—”

“…don’t know the meaning of hard work,” I contribute. “Yeah, I know. Now go away.”

“No, you go away. You’re in deep trouble, young man. Two black-hearted sidewinders have ridden into town to—”

“That’s the ridiculous opening line from Rise From Ashes. A dreadful novel.”

“Dreadful? Do you know how many copies I sold?” Hiram says.

“The protagonist was an idiot who shot his own big toe off.”

“That had a solid plot purpose. And at least he shot himself, not a member of his own family.”

Whenever I piss Hiram off, he brings up the shooting.

“Screw you!” I whisper and turn back to my keyboard.

Green Monsters on the Green Monster!
Late last night, a sharp-eyed Boston Red Sox guard spotted a pack of green, three-eyed space monsters in Fenway Park. Authorities believe them to be the aliens who escaped from the secret government prison first brought to the public’s attention in last week’s Boston Tattler. The guard reported seeing the creatures scrambling up the wall that Red Sox fans have lovingly dubbed ‘The Green Monster.’
Green monsters attracted to a green wall? A coincidence? Unlikely. In fact, experts on the subject of aliens from outer…

“This little piggy—”

“Hey!” I jerk my foot back.

Melody has sneaked up on me. She likes to do that.

She wiggles my little toe again. “This little piggy went to market, this little piggy—well, you know the rest of the narrative.” She lets go of my toe.

“Actually, that felt good. Don’t stop.”

“That’s as much wiggling as you get, Jeff. You’re married.”

I pull my feet off my desk and rest them on the floor. “Separated.”

“That’s still married.”

Melody is my editor. She’s thirty-seven—three years older than I am. Her face is narrow and pretty, her hair red and wavy. She likes hoop earrings and has long feet.

She shuffles through the printout in her hands. “You sent me eight stories this week but promised me nine.”

“I’m still working on the last one. Did you know that a space creature has replaced the Red Sox mascot and has put a hex on the top of the batting order?”

“They’re already hexed,” Melody says. She eyes me for a long moment, then screws up her mouth. “I’m concerned.”

Here it comes again. “About my articles? About my bare toes? Or my collection of metal toys?” I reach across my desk, pick up the Spirit of St. Louis and fly it back and forth overhead.

Melody puts her hands on her hips and rolls her eyes. “Yes, all those things, Jeffrey, but in this instance, what I meant was I hate to see you wasting your talent writing this garbage. You’re the best writer I’ve ever edited. You deserved that Pulitzer.”

“Which they took back twenty-seven days later.”

“Most journalists would kill to have one for even twenty-seven days.”

Melody said that with a smile. She says most everything with a smile. It’s a pretty smile, but sometimes forced, as if she were trying to make herself happier than she feels. She’s the opposite of Sherwood, who wallows in gloom and wants to pull everyone down with him.

I say, “You always see the best in every situation.”

“Thanks.”

“It drives me batshit.”

Melody raps her knuckles on my desk. “I need the copy by two o’clock.” She raps her knuckles on the top of my head. “At the latest.”

I watch her go. I shouldn’t tease her the way I do. Melody’s not the hard-ass editor she pretends to be. She’s in fact a softy, smart and thoughtful. Also curvy.

Hiram says, “That young lady has a fine carriage.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” I say and pick up my typing where I left off:

Space lizards have the ability to slow down fast balls, strip the spin from curves and send knuckleballs off in…

Hiram says, “‘slow down fast balls’ is flabby and clumsy because ‘slow’ and ‘fast’ interfere with each other.”

“Un huh.” I keep on typing.

“Clementine’s coming to visit.”

“Oh?”

“She’s worried about Ebenezer.”

I look up from my keyboard. “What is it this time?”

“He’s missing.”

“Grandpa Ebenezer is always missing,” I say.

“Clementine thinks he’s in trouble.”

I delete ‘slow down fast balls’ and type ‘retard fast balls. “How can Ebenezer be in trouble? He’s dead.”

“I don’t like that word—and now you’re the one in trouble.”

I look up to see Uncle Sid coming toward me. Two burly guys walk with him, one on each side, clutching his arms.

My uncle looks scared. I hate to see that. I love the guy.

“Jeff,” he says with a quiver, “these two gentlemen want a word with you.”

I’ve watched enough local news to recognize the Ramsey twins—Hank and Freddie. Not gentlemen. Mobsters.

I get to my feet, pull Sid free from the pair’s grasp and wrap my arm around his shoulders. They’re trembling. “What in hell do you two want?

Hank steps closer and blows his cigar breath in my face. He has big ears and black hair combed straight back. At six feet three, he stands eye-to-eye with me, but he’s half again as wide. He says, “Did you write that idiotic story?”

“Which idiotic story? I write lots of idiotic stories.”

Freddie says, “Asshole!” and steps forward.

Hank reaches out to hold him back. “Easy.”

Although the two were born identical, no one has trouble telling them apart because Freddie had the front half of his nose lobbed off in a knife fight. This gives him a piggy look.

Hank says, “You know what I’m talking about, wiseass. Who told you about that government prison for space monsters?”

“Who? No one. I made it up.”

“You made it up?”

“I make up everything I write.”

Hank tilts his head back and half closes his eyes. “You made the story up?”

“Isn’t that what I just said?”

Hank pokes me in the chest. “Then how come it’s true?”

***

Excerpt from The Journalist by David Gardener. Copyright 2021 by David Gardener. Reproduced with permission from David Gardener. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

David Gardener

David Gardner grew up on a Wisconsin dairy farm, served in Army Special Forces and earned a Ph.D. in French from the University of Wisconsin. He has taught college, worked as a reporter and sold women’s shoes.

He coauthored three programming books for Prentice Hall, wrote dozens of travel articles as well as too many mind-numbing computer manuals before happily turning to fiction.

He lives in Massachusetts with his wife, Nancy, also a writer. He hikes, bikes, messes with astrophotography and plays the keyboard with no discernible talent whatsoever.

Catch Up With David Gardener:
DavidGardnerAuthor.com
Goodreads
Instagram - @davidagardner07
Twitter - @dgardner_author
Facebook - @david.gardner.33483

 

 

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Wednesday, 4 August 2021

Twilight's Temptation (Shades of Night #2) by Shilpa Suraj

 


 The ace photographer and the supermodel, they should have been a match made in heaven. Instead, they fought like the demons of hell. 


Complicated, surly, and sexy, Manav Apte was probably the only photographer who resented his muse. From the day he’d seen her, there had been no other. Unfortunately, she was the one woman he could never have.
Passionate, talented, and gorgeous, Diana Severes refused to give the temperamental ass behind the camera the satisfaction of knowing he got under her skin. It was, however, impossible not to notice him or his glowering disapproval that trailed her everywhere she went.
Their dislike and distrust of each other is legendary in the fashion industry and yet, the sparks that fly when they come together for work are enough to light the sets on fire.
Will the Golden Girl of India’s fashion scene be able to see beyond his hatred to the love he’s desperately trying to mask? And will the country’s most talented photographer realise that his true talent lies not in what he views through his lens but what he sees through the filter of his heart?

Book Links:
Goodreads * Amazon.in * Amazon.com


Read an Excerpt from Twilight's Temptation


“You can’t come.”
I squinted at my watch in the dark of my room. “It’s three o’clock in the fucking morning,” I croaked into the phone.
Beside me, Kunal moaned in his sleep and slung a leg across my thighs. One hand made its way under my shirt. I slapped it away and shoved him back to his side of the bed. Clearly, he was having some very good dreams.
“You can’t come to Goa.” That sexy, sultry voice insisted in my ear. Diana. Of course, it would be Diana. She wouldn’t think twice about drunk dialing me in the middle of the night, would she?
“You don’t get to tell me what I can or can’t do,” I told her, propping myself up against the headboard. Kunal let out a suspicious sounding grunt. I used my leg to propel him further away from me.
“Look,” the hellcat hissed in my ear. “I have a shoot in Goa that week. That’s how this whole godawful plan came up. I have to be there. You don’t!”
“So?” The retort was more to rile her up than it was to actually make a point. I yawned and stared into the relative darkness of the room. Thankfully, Kunal had fallen silent though I was going to have to change the sheets tomorrow. Not taking chances with those weird noises he was making.
“Don’t come,” she wailed suddenly almost puncturing my eardrum. I winced and pulled the phone back from my ear.
I took a deep breath and tried to will that weird twinge of hurt in my chest away.
“You’re going to have to tolerate my presence, sweetheart,” I told her. “I promised Dev I’d come.”
“Like you never break promises,” she snarled.
“I don’t.”
I heard her scream on the other end of the phone, loud and feral. Never let it be said that I didn’t know how to make women scream.
“Was there a reason behind you making this call in the middle of the freaking night?”
“Yes,” she said, sulkily. “Three vodkas.”
I laughed, the sound wrenched from me. “I’ll bring you an entire bottle to sustain you through the trip.”
“So we’re still going on this stupid trip, huh?”
She sounded like a spoilt, petulant child and all I wanted to do was scoop her into my arms and cuddle her.
“We’re still going,” I confirmed, strangely looking forward to it now.
“Why?” The three year old on the other end of the line asked.
I exhaled heavily. “Because we love our friends.”
“I know,” she groaned. The sound went straight to parts of my body that I really didn’t want to think about while talking to her.
I leaned my head back against my pillow and shut my eyes. Her voice floated out of the phone making the hair on the back of my neck stand straight up. If this was supposed to be my fight or flee moment, all I wanted to do was roll over in submission. This woman always had that effect on me.
“Why do we love them so much?” she groaned again making my eyes roll back in my head. She was going to be the death of me someday. Sooner rather than later.
“It’s a mystery,” I replied, although in my heart I knew. The guys were my family as much as the dumbass snoring beside me was and so were the women they loved.
“Why are you calling me, Diana?” I asked, the endless need I felt for her churning in my gut. I kept my eyes closed. I wasn’t sure I could face what I felt for her if I didn’t. Or face myself for feeling this way about another man’s woman.
“I wanted to talk to you.”
The simple answer had my gut clenching.
“Why?” The hoarse desire in my voice was impossible to hide. The silence on the phone had my hand vising around it.
“Why, Diana?” I repeated, burying my pride along with my long lost self-respect.
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “I don’t know why.”
I kept my eyes closed, my heart thundering like a runaway train. I wasn’t going to read anything into this strange conversation. She wasn’t even going to remember it tomorrow.
“Why do you hate me?”
The whispered question had my eyes snapping open.
“I don’t hate you, Diana,” I whispered back. “I just hate how you make me feel.”


About the Author:

Shilpa Suraj wears many hats - corporate drone, homemaker, mother to a fabulous toddler and author.

An avid reader with an overactive imagination, Shilpa has weaved stories in her head since she was a child. Her previous stints at Google, in an ad agency and as an entrepreneur provide colour to her present day stories, both fiction and non-fiction.




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Friday, 30 July 2021

The Voices at the End of the Road by Twyla Ellis



Ghosts of the Big Thicket, Book Three

Southern Gothic, Mystery, Paranormal Women’s Fiction

Published: July 2021

Publisher: Zimbell House Publishing



The Whitfield Estate is hidden deep in the Big Thicket outside of Soda, Texas. This reclusive family brood amassed their oil and timber fortune over four generations, and now that it’s been done, they have become painfully aware of how isolated and broken they are as a family.

Tessa Nettles, fresh from college, is hired as the estate manager. But her main role is to help the youngest Whitfield, Caroline, have a more normal life. She has been cloistered away at Whitfield for the whole of her first fourteen years. Now, her oldest brother, Grayson, wants to make a happier life for her than he and his brother, Travis, had.

But first, what will he do about the strange lights that fall from the sky over the Trinity River, and their connection with the mysterious voices at the end of the road, the voices of entities that have secretly been Caroline’s only friends her whole life? But are these ghostly entities dangerous? And will they want Tessa gone from Whitfield?

Will Old Gullah Woman and Preacher Man be allowed to stay on in the rundown river cabin, stirring up the waters and calling down the mysterious lights? Or will the Whitfield matriarch run them off, even after their Gullah potions kept her husband alive two years longer than the doctors could have?

And will Tessa bring harmony to the estate, or set off a competition between the brothers that has the potential to destroy the Whitfields completely?


Other books in the Ghosts of the Big Thicket Southern Gothic Mystery Series Include:


The House on Camp Ruby Road

Ghosts of the Big Thicket, Book One


The Girls of Cemetery Road

Ghosts of the Big Thicket, Book Two

Amazon



About The Author

Twyla Ellis is a descendent of pioneers who came to Texas in the 1840s, while Texas was still a Republic. She grew up roaming the dense pine forests in the Big Thicket around Livingston, Texas at the homes of her grandmother, great-aunts and uncles, and cousins. Her family was one of the founding families of Livingston, and her great-great-great-grandfather was the first city treasurer in the eighteen-forties. She fell in love with the haunting feel of the Thicket, its sounds, and sights, and smells. Her goal is to make people aware of the mystique of this novel part of Texas.

She holds a degree from Howard Payne University and had taught English and Music, and has been a member of NEA, TSTA, and TETA. She was a statewide officer and conference speaker with TETA (Texas English Teachers Association). She has run her own children’s party and event planning business, Parties by Twyla, as well as Remembrances Antiques and Gifts in the Houston area. She is certified in computer graphic design and free-lances in her spare time.

Nothing makes her happier than road trips with her family to interesting old Texas towns. She loves church, antiquing, fossil hunting with her husband and sons (they hunt, she writes), Big Bend, the Alamo (don’t all Texans?), exploring deserted buildings with a camera, and especially, the Big Thicket of deep East Texas.

If she had to give you a one-sentence bio of herself, she would probably say, “That obnoxiously joyful, hug-driven, southern relative that you’d like to hide in the attic, just might be me.”


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Wednesday, 28 July 2021

Wolf Marked by Alexis Calder

 

I am so excited that WOLF MARKED by Alexis Calder is available now and that I get to share the news!

If you haven’t yet heard about this wonderful book, be sure to check out all the details below.

This blitz also includes a giveaway for a $10 Amazon GC courtesy of Alexis, & Rockstar Book Tours. So if you’d like a chance to win, check out the giveaway info below.

 

About The Book:

Title: WOLF MARKED (Moon Cursed #1)

Author: Alexis Calder

Pub. Date: July 29, 2021

Publisher: Alexis Calder

Formats: Paperback, eBook

Pages: 232

Find it: Goodreads, Amazon, Kindle

Read For Free With A Kindle Unlimited Membership!

They tried to break me. Now I’m going to break them.

Cursed to never shift, the only thing I was looking forward to about the First Moon Ceremony was that the magic sealing me into Wolf Creek would break, and I could finally leave.

Instead, the ceremony reveals my true mate: Tyler Grant, future leader of my pack and the man responsible for my most recent concussion and black eye. He’s as brutal as he is handsome and fate is a bitch to put us together.

There’s a rumor that a mating bond could break my curse and just as I’m getting my hopes up, Tyler destroys them all.

Instead of bonding with my mate, I’m beaten and left for dead.

A hot-as-sin feral shifter finds me and helps me back on my feet. But his help comes with a cost and I’m not sure I’m willing to pay the price.

With my former pack hunting me down, even an enemy might be a better ally than trying to stay alive on my own.

This is book one in steamy rejected mate series. This is not a reverse harem series. 17+ for steam, language, and darker themes.

 

EXCERPT:

Tyler moved closer to me and I held my ground. Not because I was trying to be overly brave, but because between the throbbing pain and blurred vision, I wasn’t sure I would stay standing if I tried to move.

“I’m going to be overjoyed when I feel our bond break. You were living on borrowed time already. I’m just finishing the job my father should have done.”

I glared at him. There was no way I was going to let Tyler know how much he’d hurt me. In a final act of defiance, I did the only thing I could think of that might cause him any kind of pain. I grabbed his head and pulled him into a kiss.

I couldn’t feel the mating bond, but I knew the physical contact would make it stronger. When I died, he’d feel the pain of losing a mate and he’d hate himself for it.

To my surprise, his hands gripped my hips, pulling my body closer to his. His lips moved with mine, deepening the kiss. Heat rose in my chest, and tingles spread down to my core.

His hand traveled up my back as his tongue slipped into my mouth. Fingers tangled in my hair, he pulled me even closer. The kiss was hungry and angry and it felt like I was releasing all of the pent up aggression I had for him into one far too steamy kiss.

My lips felt bruised as heat grew into the kiss. Tyler’s stubble was rough on my cheeks. I hated him with every ounce of my being and I put all my emotions into the movement of my lips.

I was the first to pull away, breaking the connection. Eyes wide, I stared up at him, expecting to see the fire of hatred I’d gotten used to seeing in his gaze. Instead, I saw lust.

And that scared me a whole lot more.



About Alexis:


Alexis Calder writes sassy heroines and sexy heroes with a sprinkle of sarcasm. She lives in the Rockies and drinks far too much coffee and just the right amount of wine.

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Giveaway Details:

1 Winner will receive a $10 Amazon GC, International.

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Tuesday, 27 July 2021

Untamed by L.C.Son

 


A Beautiful Nightmare Story

Dark Fantasy Romance

Date Published: July 27, 2021



Undeniably Female. Unquestionably Feral. Unquenchably Famished.

It’s been twenty years since Chartreuse Grenoble witnessed not only the burning of her sister at the stake for claims of witchcraft but the great all-consuming fire of New Orleans. When the enigmatic, pure blood Altrinion-Vampire, Dalcour Marchand rescues her from fleeing her family’s doomed state, she has no idea she is nothing more than a bartering tool for his wretched brother, Decaux.

But she has other plans. She has no desire to be used or controlled.

Forging her own dark alliances, Chartreuse defies not only the will of men but the supernatural balance itself in her blood-thirsty quest to avenge what matters most.

Herself.

*Warning- This book contains mature material not suitable for readers under 18 years old. Topics such as rape, abuse, prostitution, racism, and misogyny are vividly depicted in this book and may trigger sensitivities of some readers.*




About the Author

Known for her Amazon Best Selling Short Story, With Hearts Like Fire and the series starter, Beautiful Nightmare (Book One), L.C. Son is happy wife of more than twenty years and loving mom of three. Lover of paranormal romance and all things sci-fi!


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Sunday, 25 July 2021

Twilight's Temptation by Shilpa Suraj






The ace photographer and the supermodel, they should have been a match made in heaven. Instead, they fought like the demons of hell. 

Complicated, surly, and sexy, Manav Apte was probably the only photographer who resented his muse. From the day he’d seen her, there had been no other. Unfortunately, she was the one woman he could never have. 

Passionate, talented, and gorgeous, Diana Severes refused to give the temperamental ass behind the camera the satisfaction of knowing he got under her skin. It was, however, impossible not to notice him or his glowering disapproval that trailed her everywhere she went. 

Their dislike and distrust of each other is legendary in the fashion industry and yet, the sparks that fly when they come together for work are enough to light the sets on fire. 

Will the Golden Girl of India’s fashion scene be able to see beyond his hatred to the love he’s desperately trying to mask? And will the country’s most talented photographer realise that his true talent lies not in what he views through his lens but what he sees through the filter of his heart?


About the Author:




Shilpa Suraj wears many hats - corporate drone, homemaker, mother to a fabulous toddler and author.

An avid reader with an overactive imagination, Shilpa has weaved stories in her head since she was a child. Her previous stints at Google, in an ad agency and as an entrepreneur provide colour to her present day stories, both fiction and non-fiction.






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