Monday, August 25, 2014

Author Interview: Splintered Lies by Karen Lopp

Splintered Lies
Karen Lopp


Genre:  Romantic Suspense
Publisher:  SilverTree Publishing
Date of Publication:   May 18, 2014
Number of pages:  223
Cover Artist:  Karen Lopp

Amazon


Book Description:

Detective Rissa Marten sacrificed her only chance for a normal life to put a drug lord behind bars. Now, her life in the shadows has to be brought to life to save the man she has secretly loved for years. With a price on her head can she risk letting him know?

Detective Jerah Qassem has built his career as an undercover agent in the dangerous world of drug cartels. But when a ghost from his past is resurrected can he overcome his bitterness in time to save her life?

Excerpt:

Rissa peeled her eyes open and tossed the pillow off her head. Sun filtered in the room through the cracks of the curtain. A few blinks later, she let out a slow breath. Jerah slept by her side. Propped on her elbows she took a leisurely study of him. Hair mussed and shirtless, his dark toned skin made her mouth water. Two days’ worth of whiskers darkened his firm jaw that hung slightly open. The urge to run her fingers through that curly chest hair pulled at her heart. His abs were ripped and yummy. She grinned and reached out.
A cold fist of reality punched her in the gut and Rissa yanked her hand back. She could never jeopardize Jerah’s life like that, no matter how strong the temptation. Even a date was off limits. She jerked up and rubbed the base of her neck. The last two times she dated, both men ended up dead. Nothing but a deep rooted gut feeling suggested foul play, but she would never take that chance again. Besides, a life on the run didn’t make relationships an option. If Rissa were killed that was one thing, but anyone she ever got close to ended up six feet under. Even though Chief Wassom took her in, she had never gone to any family functions and rarely saw him outside of work.
Rissa tugged on her shoes and cast one last look at Jerah’s bare chest. Would he still be alive if he had taken her up on her offer of sex eight years ago? Somehow, even from prison, her mother managed to find and kill those she cared about. That was a worse punishment than being tortured to death.          
A quick survey of the sparsely furnished room reminded her of her place. No family photos, no personal items, and probably frozen dinners in the freezer. She hated to think Jerah lived like this.
Still tired, Rissa padded to the kitchen and peeked inside the refrigerator and frowned. Didn’t Jerah ever have a meal at home? Hungry, she fetched her borrowed jacket and grinned when she spied some cash on the dresser. Jerah hadn’t moved and she flicked another longing glance over him. Look but don’t touch. She did have one thing in common with her mother. They both were in prison. Her mother’s was concrete and bars, hers was forced isolation.
Outside, she glanced up and down the street in search of food. Across the street a few tables sat along the sidewalk and she headed in that direction, grateful Jerah had a hefty stash of cash. She passed a phone store and slipped inside. It was past time to get a cell phone and check in with Montoya.
Phone in hand, Rissa stepped outside and punched in a quick text. Stomach rumbling, she hurried to the burger joint.
Her phone buzzed. “Hello.”
“I think Qassem may be the perp.” Montoya’s sharp tone startled her.
Ice trailed down her spine. “Why?”
“Meet me in one hour in front of the USS Midway Museum.”
Rissa frowned when Montoya hung up on her without any more explanation. Something had happened while she was gone. With a bag of burgers, fries, and two large cokes, she hustled back to Jerah’s apartment. Jerah couldn’t be a murderer. He just couldn’t. A lump formed in her throat. She would have never believed her mother could kill either. But she had, right in front of her.

More Romance Please Author Interview Questions

MRP would like to extend a very warm welcome to Karen Lopp, author of Splintered Lies. Karen, who or what most influenced you to become a writer?
My greatest influence to become a writer came from reading everything in the library and getting frustrated when I had finished and there were no new books available. By the time I had finished my first draft I knew there was no going back. I needed to write as much as I needed to read.
If you were to be left alone on an island, what three books would you take with you?
The Scarlet Pimpernel for a love story, any Hank the Cowdog book for a good laugh, and the Bible for inspiration.
What are your most and least favorite movie genres?
My favorite is action/thrillers and my least favorite would be horror.
If you could choose any man for your next book cover, who would he be?
I’ve never thought about that one. I’d prefer someone unknown so the reader didn’t have a preconceived idea of the character in the book.
When you are on a deadline, what aspect of your ‘regular’ life suffers most?
The dishes.
What advice would you give aspiring authors?
Always be willing to learn from your mistakes and listen to your instincts but be open to advice. Take criticism with grace and turn it into a positive.
What advice would you give seasoned writers?
Never forget your first love of writing anddon’t get so comfortable with your career that you refuse to continue to grow as a writer.
When reading for pleasure, do you prefer a physical or electronic book?
Electronic.
From the first stroke of a pen (or laptop), how long did it take you get published? Approximately 7 to 8 years. I wasn’t too serious about publishing in the beginning.
Did you ever feel like calling it quits?
No, I have been extremely frustrate at times, though.
What did you do when you got your first contract?

Did a jig and called all my kids.
Thank you so much for joining us today, Karen. We really enjoyed the visit. Good luck and great sales with Splintered Lies

About the Author:

Stories have always been a part of my life, from books to tales passed down from my ancestors that brought history to life. Danger, struggles and the will power to overcome are all found in the rich legacy of my family tree. Inspiration from their lives inspired me to write what I love. Branching out to contemporary suspense has been another dream come true. I hope my stories bring you entertainment and inspiration.

I love history of all times and places. And my second but equal love of suspense fills my books.

Author Links:

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest

Tour giveaway
3 ebook copies of Splintered Lies 
1 grand prize throw blanket open to US Shipping

Monday, August 18, 2014

Guest Blog: Love Spirits by Diana Cachey

Love Spirits
What Happens In Venice
Book One
Diana Cachey


Genre: Romance/paranormal.
Number of pages: 160


Book Description:
Among the romantic canals of Venice—and oh so many Italian distractions—can a stunning American lawyer and her psychic sister help the Ghosts of Venice solve a hushed-up crime?

Louisa Mangotti is a gorgeous American lawyer and Interpol expert who, after being offered a job working with the international crime unit in Venice, receives a mysterious postcard from the Venetian Ghosts, the ancient protectors of the Republic. But Louisa assumes her bad-boy ex, Matteo, sent it in a quixotic attempt to gain her attention.  Louisa may have dismissed the ghosts, but the ghosts aren’t quite done with her.

When the bodies of two glassmakers wash up on Murano Island, the cryptic messages persist. Reluctantly, Louisa calls upon Matteo to help decipher the clues. And before she knows it, a flame that was never fully extinguished is rekindled.  Sensing that her sister is in over her head, Barbara Mangotti rushes to the rescue, only to be lured away by two handsome Venetian men.

With time running out, can the two beauties solve a crime that could threaten the city of Venice itself?
Trailer1 Trailer2



Keywords: Chick lit mystery ,Venice fiction, Ghosts of Venice, Paranormal mystery, Contemporary women novels

What Happens In Venice -- A Trinity

Book One, Love Spirits
Book Two, Lagoon Lure
Book Three, Magic Island


LET’S MAKE A PARTY!
Venetian Ghost Costume Ball With Playlist & Giveaway
By Diana Cachey
If you’ve already read Love Spirits, my sexy new novel set in Venice, Italy, then you know that “let’s make a party” is the favorite saying and life philosophy of Matteo, the wealthy, handsome antagonist and ex-lover of our heroine, Louisa Mangotti. Matteo may be a bad-boy and untrustworthy charmer, but he has one thing right: Parties are fun! 
Here is our Let’s Make a Party Recipe and Playlist complete with masks, costumes, fabulous food, soft lighting and a romantic and dance-worthy playlist to definitely get your Carnival on.
The party playlist is also Book Soundtrack for Love Spirits, perfectly picked to accompany reading of the novel. Should novels have soundtracks? Do playlists boost our imagination, further engage us as readers and bring something extra to literature? Some books I’ve read will always be tied to music that was popular at the time of their release. Others are woven to songs I listened to while reading them. Words and music can play off one another.
Besides, if we’re going to “make a party” we need music!
I’ve selected my own music-reading pairings and chose songs that emotionally corresponded to characters, scenes, chapters and settings. I hope it enhances your reading experience. If you have some suggestions for songs to add to this playlist, please post them in the comments below.
Let’s Make a Party and Happy Listening:
In the Letter from Venetian Ghosts at the start of Love Spirits, the ghosts recommend violin concertos, operas, some Frank Sinatra  or any song a gondolier serenades on a canal ride to get you in a romantic mood. Yet the novel's characters are young and free, therefore, rock, pop and hip hop are must-haves in any party plan. Louisa loves classic rock like the Rolling Stones, the young Italian men sing the Beatles to English speaking women and everyone loves hip hop and dance music. So let’s get this party started ~~
RECIPE FOR VENETIAN GHOST PARTY!
 Required Supplies:
• Masks & Capes
• Gilded Things
• Red Velvet & Black Satin (to drape)
• Cobwebs, Mold, Candles or Gas Lamps
• Classical Music by Verdi, Vivaldi or Wagner
• Real & False Friends
• Merchants (to buy & sell stuff)
• Gondoliers (to provide many services)
• Murano Glassware
• Pigeons
• Bellini Cocktails (See Recipe, www.whathappensinvenice.com)
• Cichetti, Venetian Appetizers (See recipe, Lagoon Lure, Fall 2014 Release)
Additional/optional:
Loose Women & Eager Men,
Millions of Wines, Millions of Cheeses, Pizza, Pasta & Pirates
PLAYLIST: BOOK SOUNDTRACK (by Chapter in Love Spirits!)
(1) Miss You, Rolling Stones
(2) American Woman, The Guess Who
(3) Brittany Spears, Toxic
(4) I'm Too Sexy. Right Said Fred
(5) Eleanore Rigby, The Beatles
(6) My Way, Frank Sinatra
(7) A Little Night Music, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
(8) Musta Got Lost, J. Geils Band
(9) Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien, Edith Piaf
(10) Sympathy for the Devil, Rolling Stones
(11) That’s Amore, Dean Martin
(12) All the Single Ladies, Beyonce
Start slow, warm up then sizzle! Let’s Make a Party!

Excerpt:
From the Top of Our Great Bell Tower Saint Mark Square Venice, Italy Dear wide-eyed tourist, Don’t go to Venice. 
But if you do, don’t fall in -- in a canal, in love or into Venice itself. As if you have a choice. Hear us cackling? Listen. We came to warn you about La Serenissima, the Most Serene One, as Venice has been called since before the Middle Ages. You will not heed our warning and you will come looking for us. How do we know? It happens every time a Venetian ghost story is told. As ancient protectors of the Venetian republic, we ghosts guard her virtues of which she has many. One reason we love her, and you will too, is that she is stuck in time. 
Did you know Venice functions without motorcars or trucks? We don’t like motorcars or trucks. 
Hundreds of tiny islands sewn together by foot bridges leaves no need for noisy, fume-spewing vehicles, thankfully. 
We prefer floating. 
Our classic transport is the gondola. Mostly reserved for you tourists now, gondolas are and always have been helmed by the most prestigious oarsmen in the world -- highly trained gondoliers who stand while rowing through the labyrinth of canals. They don’t mind when we ride with or without you while they serenade us with opera, Frank Sinatra songs and romantic favorites. Ah yes, romance. As one visitor put it, “It’s their schtick, a Venetian ploy, an act to get sexy with you.” It is true. Venice equals romance equals sex. If the shadows of Venice frighten you or you feel like you’re in a dream, have fun with it, float with us. We are watching over you. We want to further your journey to a more magical life because we think a person is charmed by a trip to La Serenissima. It could change your soul forever. Just ignore this cautionary tale. We remain in your service, The Venetian Ghosts

About the Author:

Diana Cachey is a licensed attorney, published academic, and former adjunct law professor. She also holds a BA in English, and while in law school, she was the first female editor in chief of her university’s law review. The author of the novel Love Spirits, she has trained with several New York Times best-selling writers, including Robert Allen, with more than seventy-two million books sold. For more than a decade, Cachey has been traveling to Venice, the setting of her novel, on extended trips several times a year. The caf├ęs, restaurants, and many other haunts of Venice play a prominent role in her sexy paranormal mystery-romance about a beautiful American lawyer guided by the Ghosts of Venice in the investigation of a hushed-up crime.

Author Links:
Facebook | Twitter | YouTube



Tour Giveaway
3 prize packs with a signed book and custom beaded bookmark- open to US Shipping
a Rafflecopter giveaway

Friday, August 15, 2014

Author Interview: A Portal in Time by Claire Fullerton

A Portal in Time
Claire Fullerton


Genre: Paranormal/Historical Romance
Publisher: Vinspire Publishing
Date of Publication: November 30, 2013
Number of pages: 192
Cover Artist: Elaina Lee/For the Muse Designs

Book Description:
When we are inexplicably drawn to love and a particular place, is it coincidence, or have we loved before?

Enigmatic and spirited Anna Lucera is gifted with an uncanny sixth-sense and is intrigued by all things mystical. When her green, cat-eyes and long, black hair capture the attention of a young lawyer named Kevin Townsend, a romance ensues which leads them to the hauntingly beautiful region of California's Carmel-By-The-Sea where Anna is intuitively drawn to the Madiera Hotel. Everything about the hotel and Carmel-By-The-Sea heightens her senses and speaks to Anna as if she had been there before.

As Anna's memory unravels the puzzle, she is drawn into a past that's eerily familiar and a life she just may have lived before.

Amazon BN Kobo  | Overdrive

MRP would like to extend a very warm welcome to Claire Fullerton, author of A Portal in Time. Claire, who or what most influenced you to become a writer?
I have e a natural born appreciation for the character and nuances of people, as well as the desire to share that appreciation. Further, being raised in the South (Memphis) was like a tutorial in how to tell a story. I find Southerners incredibly engaging in their colorful, exaggerated way of talking; they aim to enthrall and entertain!

If you were to be left alone on an island, what three books would you take with you?
Pat Conroy’s “The Prince of Tides,” John Knowles “A Separate Peace,” and Lisa Carey’s “The Mermaids Singing.”

What are your most and least favorite movie genres?
I’ve never liked action-adventure: all brawn and not enough brains!  I like character intensive movies, the ones that show us humanity with all its beauty and edges.

If you could choose any man for your next book cover, who would he be?
My next novel takes place in rural Ireland, so the black-Irish looks of the actor Johnathan Rhys-Meyer would be perfect.

When you are on a deadline, what aspect of your ‘regular’ life suffers most?
I prepare for deadlines by creating space, but if anything suffers, I think it’d be my involvement with our two dogs, who are seriously demanding of my attention.

What advice would you give aspiring authors?
Have faith in your story and write the first draft as best you can. The real work comes when you review and edit your first draft, then it all gets easier as you continue to go over it and over it repeatedly. Know there is a reason you feel compelled to write; do so with the courage of conviction and enjoy the process.

What advice would you give seasoned writers?
Never forget writing is a growth process which seeks a higher level.

When reading for pleasure, do you prefer a physical or electronic book?
Definitely physical.

From the first stroke of a pen (or laptop), how long did it take you get published?
I’d been published in magazines (poetry and women’s magazines) and had my own weekly newspaper column wherein I told stories in the first person about my life in Malibu.  Many years ago, I wrote a novel that takes place in rural Ireland, but after sending queries to agents looking for representation, very little was happening! I decided to try my hand at another genre—to write a book I would love to read, so I wrote “A Portal in Time” and was lucky enough to find a publisher who understood my vision. I was offered a contract three months after I submitted the manuscript, and now that Irish novel ( having been substantially reworked!) will be out by the same publisher in March of 2015.

Did you ever feel like calling it quits?
No, I am dedicated, patient and willing to say that writing is a growth process if one stays the course.

What did you do when you got your first contract?
I learned all I could about promotions and sat down to revise my second novel.

Thank you so much for joining us today, Claire. We really enjoyed the visit. Good luck and great sales with A Portal in Time.

About the Author:

Claire Fullerton is the author of Paranormal/Historical Romance, “A Portal in Time.”  Her second novel, “Dancing to an Irish Reel,” set in Connemara, Ireland, will be published in March, 2015.  Claire is a contributor to numerous magazines as well as a multiple contributor to the “Chicken Soup for the Soul” book series. She is a multiple award winning essayist, a former major-market radio disc jockey, and an avid ballet dancer.  Claire hails from Memphis, Tennessee, and currently divides her time between Malibu and Carmel, California with her husband and two German shepherds!

Author Links:
Website| Facebook | Goodreads | Twitter | Google+ 



Tour Giveaway:
2 print copies of A Portal in Time open to US Shipping
2 e-book copies of A Portal in Time open internationally
a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Series Spotlight: Love And Series by Mary Kate Kopec

Love AND Bullets
Love And Series
Book One
Mary Kate Kopec


Genre:  Romantic Action Suspense


Book Description:
Three years ago Giffin Reese fell for the man of her dreams. But it wasn't meant to be. She was already married to a good man. A man who believed in her. Needed her. Loved her. Sometimes in life we do what it calls upon us to do.

It wasn't your everyday protection detail of a Senator plus trophy wife. First, she was no trophy. She came with brains and an attitude. Just what he liked. And two, the case was all kinds of screwed up. A threat with no name on it. Maybe even a leak. And it all turned to hell when the Senator got taken down by a sniper shot.

Devon Monroe still doesn't know what the hell went wrong that day. But he's not going to let it happen again. Someone's serious with an itchy trigger finger, and this time the target is squarely pointed at a certain Senator's beautiful widow. But not if he can help it. It'll take everything he has to set things right, clear his conscience, and prove himself to her. Even if it means dying, trying.

Love and Bullets is an action packed steamroller of mystery, suspense, and rekindled desire. Come join Devon and Giffin as they race against the clock, explore their hearts, and dodge bullets in this story of secrets, deception, betrayal, and love.

Sparks fly and so do the bullets!

Book Trailer

Amazon 


Excerpt:
“As you can see, Mrs. Reese, we can quite easily get to you.  You cannot be protected, despite what Mr. Monroe seems to think.”
Devon?  They knew him?  How could that be?
“So unless you choose the same fate as your husband, I suggest you reconsider your current ventures.”
She was baffled.  What current ventures?  She helped people.  How could that be a problem?
“What do you mean?” she asked.
He continued, ignoring her interruption.  “Mrs. Reese, you will die if you do not heed my warning.”  As if to emphasize his words, he raised a gun and pointed it in her face.  “This is not a negotiable request.  Do you understand?”
No way did she understand, but she nodded anyway, afraid to ask and not wanting to get shot.  What current ventures?  What could she be doing that would get her killed?  What could she be doing, and had it gotten her husband killed?  She felt sick with fear and confusion.
Without warning he leaned over and opened her door.  Keeping his gun leveled on her, he added flatly, “Now get out.  Your ride is coming.”
Abruptly the car stopped.
You didn’t have to tell her twice.  She didn’t hesitate.  She jumped out.  But before she could get all the way out, the car began accelerating again.  And in her efforts to clear the speeding vehicle, she fell to the ground and rolled, skinning her hands and knees.
Pain shot through her, and tears stung in her eyes.  Giffin attempted to get up, but stumbled back down to one knee.  Her arms and legs shook like leaves.  She was in a full body tremble.  Not for trying, but she couldn’t quite catch her balance, and she realized that her heel had broken.
Giffin reached around, and with a shaking hand, removed her shoes.  Holding them in her hand, she pushed herself up and tried to stand steady on her two feet.  She looked up the road to where her abductors’ car was disappearing into the horizon and a wave of overwhelming relief flowed through her.  They didn’t kill her.  It was over.
But then the other side of brain fought back and asked, What the hell is going on?
She was unsurprised now, when Devon pulled around the bend in a shiny silver Lexus sedan and came to a stop beside her.
“Get in,” came the voice in the car.
She knew that voice, knew it well.  It did something to the pit of her stomach.  She got in, tossed her shoes to the floor, and fastened her seat belt.  Throwing him a sidelong glance, without humor, she asked, “Just in the neighborhood?”




Love AND Leaving
Love And Series
Book Two
Mary Kate Kopec


Genre:  Romantic Action Suspense


Book Description:
Emma June Carter’s life is as normal as can be. All except the part where once upon a time she was Miss Michigan and a finalist for the Miss American Sunshine pageant. She's a baker and a co-owner of Delectable Delights, a sweet treats bakery that she loves. She has good friends. A best friend. And it was all going so well - until her boyfriend dumped her. The boyfriend that had hinted at love and a life together - and then disappeared.

Detective Jack Haley is good at his job, likes life, and knows how to laugh. Poker and his luxury ride with perfect performance and buttery soft leather seats take the edge off of the grit and grime of his work in property crimes.
For them, it was any other day. Until he got the call. And she went out for one last drink to shake off the breakup. A chance meeting in a bar, and neither gets what they came for. They get so much more. Neither know it, but danger is trailing Emma's footsteps, and her life is about to go from normal to hell in six seconds, flat. It doesn't take long before their paths cross again, and this time it won't be so easy leaving.

Love and Leaving is a story about nothing being safe, but in life, having everything to gain . . . at a cost. Jack and Emma will have to decide what is worth it and what isn't.

He's coming, and she's leaving!

Book Trailer 

Amazon 


Excerpt:
Emma June Carter, former Miss Michigan, now successful pastry chef and master of all things sweet, sat twirling her pathetic excuse of a lemon twist stormily about in her second, now half-empty, vodka tonic, swearing off men and their many useless promises.
Twenty-nine—for real—and three days shy of being thirty, she thought she’d found the one.  But after six months of crazy-for-you, non-stop fun and abandon—and a major hint at permanent things to come—Max Stone, man of her dreams, had abruptly called it quits.
One phone call.  No explanation.  And he was gone.
Now all she wanted to do—when she wasn’t bawling miserably—was rip his lying heart out of his gorgeous, too-fit chest and feed it to him for lunch.  Or at least sit here for the moment, alone, to enjoy a short, self-indulgent and well earned—if you don’t mind—pity party.
And a drink or two.
Emma wasn’t one for anger or wallowing, but this really hurt, and she just needed a moment to cope.  And process.  And get a grip.  And to stop seeing herself stomping her pain out all over Max’s, now annoyingly, beautiful face.
She smiled.  Stomping on his face wasn’t the nicest of thoughts.  True.  But “It’s over.  Take care of yourself.  Bye.” followed by a dial tone just wasn’t the way it was done.  The weasel hadn’t even been respectful enough to do it in person.  And now, all she got was voicemail and a visit to his empty apartment.  So yes, not a nice thought, kicking the crap out of Max, but Max didn’t deserve a nice thought.  And as wishful thinking went, it was a pretty good image, and so even though it really wasn’t like her, it made her smile.
“Your drink’s getting low.  Lemme buy you another.”
Emma dropped her smile and slid her eyes left to the gravelly and deeply masculine voice interrupting her lament to find Mr. Ripped and Ruggedly Handsome in black leather and jeans eyeing her up appreciatively.  Good grief.  Not another one.  She barely suppressed a sigh.
Ruggedly Handsome was just that and then some.  But he and his molten-chocolaty brown eyes, heavy jaw, thick brows, and perfect lips—minus the hairline scar—were all bad-boy to the bone.  And if you weren’t convinced, the spider web and dagger tattoos on his hands and hard-ass biker boots should finish off the story.  He was oozing sex appeal like the Hoover Dam had just let loose.  And barking up the wrong tree.  Emma had had enough of suave and slick.
She shook her head, “No thanks.  I’m good.”
Returning to her drink and her thoughts, it occurred to her that perhaps having a pity party publicly—even if she was situated at the end of the bar, with her face tilted down, hair falling forward, staring morosely into her drink—wasn’t the best signal for personal time.  But still.  Couldn’t Mr. Ripped and Ruggedly Handsome see that she wasn’t up for company, especially male company?
Apparently not.
Mr. Handsome followed with, “I can see that, and it’s just a drink.  Give me a chance.”
Oh God.  He was going with a lame line.  Seriously?
Not really wanting to engage hotty biker dude in a verbal duel over drinks, Emma thought to cut him short, so she could get back to her alone time.  But she wasn’t the mean type, so she returned his appreciative once over and sighed in mock disappointment, “Sorry, but you’re way too cool for me.”
Not-getting-it biker guy edged closer with an undeterred glint in his eye and gave her comment the brush off.  “Don’t say that—”
So much for being nice.
Emma realized her pity party was over.  Ruined by Mr. R. and R. Handsome and his annoying persistence.  And this time, she dropped a very heavy sigh for real.  He made to continue with his pitch, but frustrated by his intrusion, Emma pushed back from the bar, scraping the metal feet of her stool on the stone tile floor beneath, and dropped a ten spot next to her drink as she made to leave.
“Hey,” he said, and inappropriately reached for her arm. “You don’t have to go.”  But Emma firmly deflected his touch with her hand.  “Let me stop you right there.  No means no.  I’m done.  Got it?”
The molten look in his eyes wasn’t chocolaty anymore, and he said, “Got it,” like he meant it.  And then he called her a bitch as he turned to the barkeep and signaled for another round.
Emma stood, shouldering her purse, back to thinking feeding men their hearts for lunch was a good idea and came to the conclusion, Bars are bad.  Next time just buy a bottle and take it home.
But there wasn’t going to be a next time.  She’d sworn off guys, and Mr. Ruggedly Handsome Jerk had just sealed the deal.
Shaking her head, fully irritated and no longer feeling any form of self-pity, Emma angled for the door wanting nothing more than to get the hell out of this bar.  Two strides into her escape, the front door pulled wide and bright-ass sunshine poured in, silhouetting her view of the incoming human.  She blinked to shake off the flashbulb effect and kept marching toward the door.  And subsequently plowed headlong into a six-foot tall wall of solid muscle.
Bouncing back, jolted, and losing her footing, Emma once again noted that Bars are bad, and this time added, Men are worse.  As evidenced by the shadowed cretin blocking her getaway.
“Whoa, hey there,” came the solid hands that kept her from stumbling, and the calm, even-timbred male voice that felt soothing on her angry nerves.  “You okay?”



Love AND Revenge
Love And Series
Book Three
Mary Kate Kopec


Genre:  Romantic Action Suspense

Book Description:
Maddie Monroe has had better days. And made better choices. When she wakes up kidnapped--used for bait--and in more danger than she could have ever imagined, it's all she can do to hope that she'll live to regret telling Seamus no.

Ex-Navy Seal Seamus Kincaid knows that the only easy day was yesterday. And in his line of work, enemies happen. He just never thought anyone would use Maddie to get to him. And now her life is on the line.

Maddie's dimples bring hard men to their knees, and her smoothies make them beg for more. She's smart, funny, and just one of the guys. She wields a computer like Seamus wields a knife. And she's a spunky ray of sunshine in skinny jeans and a bop-tail who gives his serious, get-it-done attitude the adjustment it needs. She's happiness in his life, until he scares the hell out of her on a mission gone bad, and she can't deal. Letting her go won't be easy, but losing her forever is unacceptable

Love and Revenge is a story about facing your fears, fighting for what's important, and learning that you can't control life--you can only decide which life you want to live.

Fight for love - die for revenge!

Book Trailer

Amazon

Excerpt:

“Maddie,” he said, and reached out to pull her into his reassuring embrace before she could retreat any further.  “That was a bad day.  One of the worst.  But I made it.  The whole team did.  Everything’s okay.”
No.  It wasn’t.
He held her tightly, but her arms stayed at her sides.  His chest was solid, his arms strong, but they no longer brought her the comfort they once did.
Every time he had to deploy to suppress a hostile environment—even though it was completely unlike her—all she could do was think the worst.  And she didn’t want to do it anymore.
Seamus, refusing to accept her withdrawal, kept her close and lovingly whispered into her ear, “Maddie, you are my world, my joy, my laughter, the sunshine in my days.  I love you.  You are the only woman for me.  My family.  Maddie,” he whispered low, with his heart in his words, “marry me.  Be my wife.”
Maddie stopped breathing.  Her lungs froze.  Her breath got lost somewhere in the silence between the stalled beats of her heart.  Unwanted tears blurred her vision, so she closed her eyes and leaned into his shoulder.
Seamus cradled her as though she was the most precious person in the world to him, but his words coaxed aching misery into the very core of her bones.  Her body.  Her heart.  They had so much in common.  Yet they were so very different.
She was the light to his darkness, the laughter to his calculating necessitated tenacity, the warmth to the loneliness of his life, and she knew it.  And they both valued family and could see their hopes fulfilled in each other.  But she wouldn’t ask, and he wouldn’t offer—and his job was her breaking point.
She’d known it was going to tear her apart, facing him down again.  But no way was she prepared for this.  He was pulling out all the stops, save one.  And she knew that if he gave up his field work for her it would be poison to them both, so she never asked and wouldn’t.
She just needed to let him go, so he could do what he was driven to do, and he needed to let her.
It took everything she had to step back from him, out of his embrace, away from his love.  Tears rolled heavily down her face.  She couldn’t seem to stop them, and rather than brush them away, she ignored them and stood up straighter, gathering her strength and will.
Seamus looked confused, but no less determined.  “Maddie,” he said reaching for her again, but she took another step back and out of his reach.
“No Seamus.  If you really love me, you’ll let me go.”
His eyes briefly clouded, then cleared.  His ironclad willpower maintained his control.
“Maddie, this doesn’t make any sense.”
Matters of the heart rarely did.
“We can do this.”
She shook her head, and his frustration began to break through.  “You’re not thinking this through.”
It was the perfect thing to say to move her from disconsolate agony to biting anger.  He was telling her she wasn’t being rational, and there was a part of her that agreed, but he didn’t get to make that call.
“You’re wrong Seamus,” she said with heat in her voice.  “I have thought it through, and I’ve met somebody.  I’m moving on.  I suggest you do the same.”
Maddie’s stomach clenched, and she’d gone cold with the pain of her own words.  Her heart was breaking, and from the look on his face, so was his.  But he said nothing.  He just stood there searching for a new tactic, a solution, a way to win the fight, and if she didn’t get him out of there, he’d find one.
She couldn’t take much more of this, so she didn’t give him the chance.  She couldn’t cave.
A desperate force of will incited her tone with something so harsh it made her nearly sick.  She didn’t want to hurt him, but before he could find his bearings, Maddie dismissed him with a firmness that shattered like ice across her skin and made it hard for her to breathe.  “Please.  Leave.”
To her relief and misery it worked.  And her stomach sank as she watched the light in his eyes fade, shutting her out.  Where once she was his joy, now she was not, and the determination in the strong lines of his face turned flat.  She could have never imagined how bad this was going to feel.  It stabbed at her heart and ground her stomach into bits.  She wanted to crumple into a ball and cry the horrible river she knew was coming, but she’d made him let her go.
Seamus stood there a moment longer, staring at her with strengthening detachment, and if she wasn’t mistaken, disgust.  He shook his head, then stiffly turned and walked out of her room and away from her.

About the Author:

Mary Kate Kopec creates steamy character driven stories of hopeful love. She thinks love and life are worth fighting for and that at times both are filled with hard bits and messy emotions. She likes a good mystery, lots of action, and a heavy dollop of humor to lighten the mood. She writes what she loves and wishes you great enjoyment in everything you read.

Author Links:
Website | Facebook | Goodreads 



Tour Giveaway
5 copies- winner’s choice of ebook or print for any of the 3 books 
1 goody bag full of swag.  Open to US shipping.  

Monday, August 11, 2014

Book Bundle Blast, Excerpt, Author Interview & Review: Extraordinary Love

Extraordinary Love

Micah Persell (author touring), Kathleen Shaputis, Holley Trent, Andrea R. Cooper, Candace Sams, Spring Stevens, Bobbi Romans, Lisa White, Becky Flade, Danica Winters




Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Crimson Romance

Publishing Date: Aug 4, 2014





Book Bundle containing 10 full category-length novels


Book Description:
Everybody needs love — especially those sexy shapeshifters, gentlemen ghosts, misunderstood demons and witches, and intergalactic leaders. You’ll find all of these otherworldly heartthrobs -- and the strong, sexy women who make their perfect matches -- in this captivating collection of paranormal titles from Crimson Romance.

Titles include:
Of Eternal Life: Micah Persell
Her Ghost Wears Kilts: Kathleen Shaputis
A Demon in Waiting: Holley Trent
The Garnet Dagger: Andrea R. Cooper
The Peacekeeper’s Soul: Candace Sams
Embrace the Fire: Spring Stevens
Swamp Magic: Bobbi Romans
Discovery: Lisa White
Fated Souls: Becky Flade

The Nymph’s Labyrinth: Danica Winters


Amazon
MRP would like to extend a very warm welcome to Micah Persell, author of Of Eternal Love, book one in the Extraordianry Love bundle.

Micah, who or what most influenced you to become a writer?
I’ve always been an avid reader.  Before my daughter was born, I read about a book a day (I’m finding it harder to read for pleasure now with a three-month-old!).  A couple of years ago when I’d gone through every book I could find and couldn’t find my next read, I had the idea to write the book I wanted to read.  Of Eternal Life was born, and I haven’t stopped writing since.
-Micah Persell, author of Of Eternal Life

If you were to be left alone on an island, what three books would you take with you?
Rhage’s story, Lover Eternal by J.R. Ward; Malkom’s story, Demon from the Dark by Kresley Cole; and a massive volume of all 7 Harry Potter books (cheating I realize, but I’m willing to take the consequences).
-Micah Persell, author of Of Eternal Life

What are your most and least favorite movie genres?
I really cannot stand non-fiction films and movies that are packaged as fiction but are just preachy documentaries in disguise can turn me into a scary lunatic. However, action/adventure movies – big guns, over the top stunts, crazy explosions, corny one liners, bad guy that die in fantastic fashion and the saucy heroine strolling into her HEA with the hero who has beaten all odds (sigh) – they are my favorites and I’m not afraid to admit it. – Becky Flade, author of Fated Souls

If you could choose any man for your next book cover, who would he be?
Yum, excellent question.  Here’s a sappy answer:  I love men so much, I am honestly thrilled with any specimen put on my covers.  Choosing just one feels impossible.  I suppose…Michael Fassbender.  No, Michael C. Hall!  I mean Sam Winchester.  No…  I choose all of the men.  All of them (see my above note about cheating).
-Micah Persell, author of Of Eternal Life

When you are on a deadline, what aspect of your ‘regular’ life suffers most?
Weirdly enough, eating. I say “weirdly enough” because I love to eat. I cannot stress this adequately.  But if I’m really in the writing groove, I can forget to eat up to two meals before my husband intervenes.
-Micah Persell, author of Of Eternal Life

What advice would you give aspiring authors?
This one is easy.  Do not give up.  Even if you receive your 100th rejection, don’t give up.  Just keep plugging away, learning, reading, revising, making your work better and one day you will (not “might”, but “will”) get the call that someone wants to publish your work.  It will happen.  Just keep at it. – Lisa White, author of Discovery

What advice would you give seasoned writers?
How pretentious of me!  Well, people who are much, much better than I am, here’s my advice: don’t believe your own hype.  Remember where you came from and us little people and mentor, mentor, mentor!  Unless you’re Kresley Cole.  Then, feel free to believe your own hype.  ‘Cause you’re amazeballs.
-Micah Persell, author of Of Eternal Life

When reading for pleasure, do you prefer a physical or electronic book?
I prefer a physical book, but I’ve run out of room in my home.  My entire home.  I’ve become a Kindle girl out of necessity.  Look for me on future episode of Hoarders: Book Edition.
-Micah Persell, author of Of Eternal Life

From the first stroke of a pen (or laptop), how long did it take you get published?
I was very lucky; I started Of Eternal Life in the summer of 2011, and finished in October of 2011.  It was accepted for publication in February of 2012 and published on June 4, 2012.  So, my first book was written and published in about a year.  I know this is not the “norm,” and I definitely don’t take it for granted!
-Micah Persell, author of Of Eternal Life

Did you ever feel like calling it quits?
Most definitely, but not with regards to novel writing.  Sadly, I am an appalling academic writer.  As I have multiple degrees in Literature, this was a problem.  And as I had a professor who relished telling me I am an appalling academic writer, I felt like throwing in the towel every single time she dropped an e-mail in my inbox, which, awesomely, was frequent indeed.  Luckily, she was wrong when she told me I would “never be published.”
-Micah Persell, author of Of Eternal Life

What did you do when you got your first contract?
My “real people job” is high school teacher, and I got the e-mail saying my first book had been accepted for publication while I was on a field trip with a bunch of my kids.  I was able to keep my cool for about 1.2 seconds before I freaked out and told them all.  They were suitably impressed for teenagers who can never fake being suitably impressed.  It was grand and humbling.
-Micah Persell, author of Of Eternal Life

Thank you so much for joining us today, Micah. We really enjoyed the visit. Good luck and great sales with Of Eternal Life and the Extraordinary Love book bundle.

Excerpt: Chapter One Of Eternal Life by Micah Persell


Abilene Miller, sitting cross-legged on the floor, squinted at the rolls of gauze on the shelf in front of her through the fringe of her lashes. When the gauze blended into something resembling a snow-covered mountain, she sighed with satisfaction and leaned her head back against the wall behind her. The supply closet was the coolest place in the hospital, and with this little trick, she could almost fool herself into thinking she was not in the God-forsaken Mojave Desert.
“Southern California, you lying bitch,” she murmured as she took a vehement bite from her peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
Dreams of rolling ocean waves, vibrant night life, and Disneyland had quickly given way to the reality that was Needles, California: a small town of 4,000 outside of the Mojave National Preserve.
Of course, the two military recruiters who had come to her hometown of Aspen, Colorado, right after med school to convince her to come work in their “cutting edge” research facility had played up those very tourist attractions in a way that merited a court martial for perjury. If that was even a thing that could happen. She didn’t know. Military I am not, she thought in amusement as she set aside her sandwich for a baggie of Oreos.
She sighed again, this time in disgust. Top 5 percent of my class at Duke University Medical School, and I get duped. She hadn’t even begun her residency, and these guys had wanted her. Really, really wanted her. Enough to throw an obscene amount of money at her, making “no” an impossibility. And if she had thought it was suspicious that they wanted to hire her before she had even seen the facility, the pull of finally being on her own had overshadowed the oddity.
She snorted. “On her own” was proving to be an elusive concept. In fact, she felt as though every step she took was measured. She lived in a military dormitory with the four other women who worked in the labs. They all carpooled to work each morning, and the head of the hospital, Major Taylor, seemed to lurk around every corner, as aware of her movements as her overbearing parents.
Abilene knew she’d made a mistake in taking this job. She just so badly needed to prove herself. What was that old adage? If it sounds too good to be true, don’t effing move into a military compound?
“Abilene, you in here?”
She gave an unfeminine grunt in response and returned her attention to her Oreos. The door edged open, and Dahlia looked in.
“Oh, Abi, hon, are you fantasizing that the gauze is snow again?”
“Among other things,” Abilene replied.
Dahlia shut the door behind her and sank down to the floor beside Abilene, reaching over and snagging an Oreo from the baggie. She turned her warm caramel-colored eyes toward Abilene.
“Tough day?”
Abilene met her friend’s gaze. “Dahlia, how many patients have you seen today?”
Understanding lit in her friend’s eyes. Dahlia had been at the facility longer than Abilene. She had been recruited straight out of the University of Pennsylvania, also before her residency, and had been working here for nearly ten months. From their talks, Abilene knew it had been a long ten months.
“Abi, I haven’t seen any patients today. You know that.”
Abilene nodded. Both women had come to this hospital in part because they believed in the cause. According to the military recruitment team that had visited each of them, the government was conducting an experiment in which they planned to refurbish small, abandoned military buildings in rural areas. These facilities would be for the local population as well as for the processing of the armed forces’ medical tests. The facilities would employ civilian doctors, but they would be funded by the government and sanctioned by the military.
It was nice in theory; however, the largely Native American population in Needles viewed any help from the government with suspicion, understandably so, and avoided the new hospital as though they still used plague-ridden blankets — a reaction the government had to have expected, which lead Abilene to wonder what the real purpose of this facility was. It was hard to believe she and the other women were here just to run labs.
“What are we doing here?” Abilene pushed a hand through her short blonde curls in frustration. “Damn it, I want to see patients. I want to save lives. I want to do something.” Dahlia broke eye contact and looked at the floor.
Abilene blew out a breath. “Sorry.” She offered a smile. She’d gotten carried away again. “Jeez, I’m sorry, Dahlia. I know you’re frustrated, too.”
Dahlia gave Abilene’s knee a squeeze. “Hey,” she shrugged, “the government is paying us to run labs and make friends. What’s to complain about?” She rose to her feet in effortless grace, turning to offer Abilene a hand up. “Come on. Treat you to a Diet Coke from the vending machine?”
This was turning into a tradition among the women at the hospital. Whenever one of them had a meltdown, it always ended with Diet Coke, which, personally, Abilene loathed. The other women sucked it down like ambrosia.
“Oh baby, you know just what I like,” Abilene said in a breathy voice, grasping Dahlia’s proffered hand while shoving thoughts of her disappointing career aside. She rose to her feet, much less gracefully than Dahlia. “You and your weird Swan Lake moves suck, you know,” she grumbled.
Dahlia chuckled and glided out into the hall.
• • •
Awareness flooded his senses so quickly he choked on his gasp of air. For several moments all he could do was gulp as his body took over in its need for oxygen. His lungs burned. He could hear his ragged breaths echoing around him, bouncing around an empty cavern.
Where am I?
His instinct urged him to take in any details he could. He heard a measured beep. His frantic mind wouldn’t place it. In fact, he couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything but that hysterical pull of air. Panic crept into the edges of his consciousness, causing his heart rate to thump.
Where was he? What was happening? Why was he … afraid?
God, not fear.
His mind clamped down on him. Fear was dangerous.
Regulate breathing. Determine surroundings. He clenched his teeth behind closed lips. Slowly, steadily, he drew a measured breath through his nose. The debilitating fear in his chest abated. Again, an internal voice whispered.
He pulled another breath through flared nostrils, this time blowing it out between parted, parched lips. As the panic receded, he noticed the incessant beeping slowed. In an instant, he discerned the beeping: his own heart rate.
A medical facility.
I’m hurt? He took mental inventory of his body. The sudden awareness of his limbs brought an onrush of pain. His bones felt crushed, agony knifed through him, and he groaned in the back of his throat.
Pain. Familiar pain. He was not a stranger to this anguish. He eased his eyes open. An involuntary moan escaped his lips, and he squeezed his eyes shut against the bright lights.
“1457, subject is stirring. Shows signs of light-related visual pain.”
Intense, animal fear arose at the sound of the clinical voice above his head. At the alarming reference to a subject.
As in test subject? Ah, God …
He held his breath as he processed this new information, what the presence of that voice meant.
I’m not alone.
For some reason, instead of calming him, this revelation ratcheted the terror tighter, to the snapping point. The inner voice whispered urgently:
This man is dangerous.
A lock fell from a hidden cache of information in his brain. He recognized the voice that whispered to him. The Voice had been his constant companion since this nightmare had begun. Now, the Voice whispered the identity of the other person in the room: The Tormentor. The beep above his left shoulder sped up as panic rushed in again. The muscles in his arms and legs clamped down as his mind scrambled over fight-or flight.
This involuntary movement caused more pain to slice through him, and he just stopped another moan from rising out of his chest. He could not let himself make any sounds of distress. Another revelation from that hidden instinct: Hide your suffering. He loves it.
Oh, God. How did he know that? There was no doubt in his mind that he knew that from personal experience. This newest revelation solved his fight-or-flight dilemma: flight.
He moved his left arm infinitesimally to determine how much pain he would be dealing with when he fled. He became aware of the cold, cutting metal impeding further movement.
A new flare of panic. Oh, no. Not that. He moved his arm again and met the same immovable restraint. He tried to move his feet. He was shackled. The sharp edges of the metal binding his wrists and ankles bit into his skin, adding to the buffet of pain, but his terror would not allow him to cease his struggles.
His mind screamed at him, urging his body to do the impossible.
“1500, subject is showing usual onset of panic at regained consciousness. Thrashing has opened wounds at the sites where he is restrained.”
The last of his confusion melted away. He remembered. He remembered everything, and knew he was lost. There would be no escape, just as there had been no escape for the past eight years. He’d been through this before. The panicked awakening. The fierce pain swamping every corner of his existence. The dawning horror of remembered tortures.
When he forced his eyes open, ignoring the sting of the bright operating room lights, a familiar figure approached.
“Always such a fuss, hmm, Eli?” The Tormentor tsked. Eli recoiled. His name was not safe with that man. He never heard it without being reminded that he had no control over himself or his situation.
His struggles against the metal restraints now resulted in a rather satisfying cacophony, but still only caused blood to drip down his arms and pool beneath his feet. The Tormentor approached, eyeing the damage Eli had done to himself with a sadistic leer that turned Eli’s stomach.
“Blood is strength, you know.” The Tormentor shook his head in mock-sorrow. “What a pity that you seem to hold it in such low regard.”
A feral growl resonated in Eli’s chest, and he punched his head up from the stretcher to glare into the Tormentor’s eyes. “I’m going to kill you.
I’m going to make sure everyone knows what you’ve done here, and then,” he paused to ensure the Tormenter was looking at him, “I’m going to kill you.”
The Tormentor cocked an eyebrow and raised a recording device to chin level. “0817, subject is displaying the symptoms of aggression that have heretofore been associated with memory recollection. Has threatened death. Again.” He clicked off the recording device and slipped it into the pocket of his scrubs.
“‘What I’ve done here,’ hmm?” He leaned down until his face almost touched Eli’s. “What I’ve done here is what you signed up for, soldier.
Nothing more, nothing less.” He straightened with a sneer and turned toward the door.
One of the two guards on the other side of the see-through barrier keyed a code into the door, and the hiss of released pressure and a grinding of gears announced that the door was unlocked. The Tormentor paused with his hand on the handle and turned to announce over his
shoulder, “Number 140 begins in four hours. Perhaps you should use this time to gather your strength instead of waste it.” He twisted the handle and left the room.
Four hours.
In just four hours they were going to conduct their one hundred fortieth experiment.
Number 14: gunshot wound to the chest. The cold feel of steel pushed against his sternum. The force of the bullet driving his body into the unforgiving metal at his back. Gunpowder stinging his nostrils as his teeth chattered from the cold caused by his bleeding out.
Number 58: asphyxiation by smothering. Excruciating burning in his lungs. The flailing of his limbs as he fought the restraints in a need to knock the oppressive hand from his mouth and nose. Stars dotting his vision as his brain fought the lack of oxygen.
His heart rate sped up to match his ragged breathing. Number 100: dismemberment. He couldn’t stifle the moan that memory dredged up, hearing in his mind the buzz of the bone saw, feeling the heat of whirring metal on flesh. His Tormentor had informed him that they had wanted to make the one hundredth “special.”
He was panting like an animal now. Four hours. In four hours, they were going to kill him.
For the one hundred fortieth time.


My Review for Of Eternal Life: 


This book had me by the end of the first page – maybe even by the end of the first sentence. I liked the heroine, Abilene, right away. She’s quirky, friendly, smart, and has a fondness for Oreo’s that seems to rival my own. And then I started chapter two….gripping, breathless, painful, horrible, gut-wrenching . . . awesome – a completely unexpected turnabout from chapter one, and what a premise! The Garden of Eden and her trees – so cool. But of course the discovery exacts a price, and that is where the story begins to gallop. Along with a great story, the author can write a mind-blowing sex scene, let me tell you, but perhaps there were too many (is that possible???)? Whatever the case, I wished fervently and frequently I was in Abilene’s shoes. The hero, Eli, is a great mix of strength and vulnerability, honor and revenge, with just the perfect amount of Special Forces hunkiness. The book was a treat to read. Well done.

About the Author:
Micah Persell, winner of the 2013 Virginia HOLT Award of Merit for her first novel Of Eternal Life, holds a bachelor's degree in English and a double master's degree in literature and English pedagogy. She is an avid reader of all types of literature, but has a soft spot for romance. She currently teaches high school English classes in Southern California. Her paranormal romance series, Operation: Middle of the Garden, and her "wild and wanton" editions of Austen's Emma and Persuasion are available now through Crimson Romance.

Author Links:
Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads