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text 2017-11-16 12:35
Blog Tour: The Divinity of Anila by Cloud S. Riser with Excerpt and Giveaway

Today’s stop is for Cloud S. Riser The Divinity of Anila. We will have info about the book and author, and a great excerpt from the book, plus a great giveaway. Make sure to check everything out and enter the giveaway.

Happy Reading :) 


--My name is Anila. Up until a few days ago, I thought I was just like every other teenage girl. Seriously, life was awesome. I was popular, had great grades, and was on my way to getting a scholarship to one of the top universities in the state. Then my boyfriend decided to go crazy on me, and I end up in a car with some other guy who claims magic is real. Crazy, is what I say. Pretty sure he's out of his mind. I--

--Hold on a minute, Nila is not giving me a fair chance. The name is Bailey, and I'm not crazy. I'm a Muse. And so is she. That's why her boyfriend got uber possessive on her. Muses inspire the best in others, and without control over their magic, a Muse can be pretty addictive to hang around.   Which is why I'm here, to teach Nila how to control that magic so she doesn't cause any more problems with the every day humans. See--   --I hate how he says every day humans like I'm not one of them. Oh, and get this, I apparently can't touch him, even just a tiny bit, because we might create magical sparks...or something?--   --Look at all the things she doesn't know about being a Muse. The sparks help us find our soul mate. Do I need to explain why I don't need her touching me right now? We just met. Besides, it's common courtesy. Keep your hands to yourself.

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 “I love you,” Levi purred into my ear as he kissed along my jaw. Any eighteen-year-old girl would have been thrilled to hear those three words coming from their deliciously handsome boyfriend of two months. The thing is, I'm not just any teenage girl. Truth be told, hearing the words “I love you” made my stomach twist, and I don't mean that in a good way. Probably because deep down in my heart, I knew he didn't mean it. Levi sure sounded convincing, and maybe he believed it was true, but with the way he preferred to try and suck face with me twenty-four/seven instead of actually learning who I was...well, I don't think I need to elaborate on my apprehension to say those three words back. When it came to Levi, the most I knew about him was that he was twenty, was interested in Biology and Chemistry, and was on his college's basketball team. Beyond that, getting him to say a whole lot about himself was like pulling teeth. At first, it didn't bother me. He was cute, in college, and seemed genuinely fascinated with me. Too fascinated with me. That should have been my first tip off right there that something about this guy wasn't all right. He had a charm, though, that made me want to ignore all of the warning signs. Not to mention the fact that he was tall, athletically built, had luscious blond hair, and sparkly blue eyes didn't help. The guy was the definition of physically perfect. A guy so good looking noticing me would never happen again in a million years. Shallow? Yes, but he was also a nice person... from what I knew of him, I mean. His hand went under my shirt and made its way up toward my breasts. That was new for him. Kissing, I let him do. Copping feels and allowing him to touch my bra was not a part of my comfort bubble. With a great deal of gentleness, I placed my hand over his and pulled it out of my shirt. Maybe he thought I was playing around with him, because he just moved it right back. We went back and forth a few times before I finally wiggled my way out from underneath him, falling to the floor from his dorm room couch. “I don't like that,” I said, being blunt. Levi pushed out his lower lip. “I'm sorry, Nila, you're just so...” I placed a finger over his lips. “I'm not mad as long as you respect I'm not ready.” “Well, why aren't you?” he snapped, so suddenly I jumped away from him. My entire mouth seemed to turn into cotton, as I tried to articulate how I was feeling. “Because I'm just not.” “You're eighteen.” “So?” “So I don't get what the hang up is. We're not going to get in trouble.” Then he asked the question that made me throw up a little in my mouth. “Don't you love me too?” Thankfully, I was still on the floor. I managed to pick myself up in a way that didn't let on just how much I was shaking, and I smoothed out my shirt. “It shouldn't matter if I love you or not. If I'm not ready, then I'm not ready. End of story.” “No, not end of story. There's a reason.” His gaze became narrower and I noticed something resembling tears in his eyes. What the heck? Why was he getting so worked up over this? “We haven't been together for too long, and I don't know a whole lot about you. I like you a lot, but this isn't how I want...” I shifted where I stood, trying to hold onto my confidence. “This isn't how I want my first time to happen.” He rolled his eyes at me, the angry tears still present. “You have a guy who loves you and wants to show you how things are done right, and that's not good enough? Should I get you a dozen roses or litter my room with candles? Is that more your thing? What do I have to do to prove to you what I feel is real and I'm the one?” “Whoa, okay, the one?” I laughed. I probably shouldn't have, but I did. “Levi, we've been together for two months. Do you even know the color of my eyes?” “Honey, that's what they make me think of. And I know you ate cereal for breakfast this morning because I can taste it on your breath,” he said. “Last night you spent the night in watching a bunch of shows on wedding dresses, so I know you're kind of a hopeless romantic. I know you a whole lot better than you think.” He knew a lot of things he shouldn't have known. I certainly never told him what I was doing the night before. So how did he know? Did he go hide in the trees outside of my parents’ house and spy through the windows? The idea sounded ridiculous, but he was putting off some major creepy stalker vibes. Slowly, I took in a deep breath and made my way toward the door. “Wow...” “See? I pay attention.” “Yes,” I said carefully. My freedom was only ten feet away. I could make it. The question was, would he let me? Levi slouched where he sat. “You've made up your mind.” “There's a lot I need to think about.” That seemed like a safe answer. Setting him off could prove disastrous. Levi was on the edge, and I didn't want to be the one receiving the brunt of those raw emotions building inside of him. “Fine, bye.” He hunched over even more. So broken. I felt bad, guilty, and those feelings were almost enough to make me stay. Then I remembered how creepy he was acting, and rushed out of the door. I'd been gone for all of three seconds when Levi sent me the first text. “This isn't the end.”

 

Cloud S. Riser is a Minnesota native. She has lived in Minnesota her whole life. She will probably remain there for her whole life too. The mother of The Squid, Skyscraper, and two cats, her life is definitely never dull. An adventure she braves with her husband. In order to stay sane, she creates massive amounts of fiction which she has decided to share with the rest of the world for the simple reason of: she is a storyteller.

Links

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a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Follow the tour HERE for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and a giveaway!

 

Source: snoopydoosbookreviews.com/blog-tour-divinity-anila-cloud-s-riser-excerpt-giveaway
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text 2017-11-15 12:35
Blog Tour: Jack & Hyde by Cloud S. Riser with Excerpt and Giveaway

Today’s stop is for Cloud S. Riser’s Jack & Hyde. We will have info about the book and author, and a great excerpt from the book, plus a great giveaway. Make sure to check everything out and enter the giveaway.

Happy Reading :) 


Double, or.... Something

For the most part of his life, Jack Anderson has been plagued by a mysterious disease that makes him a weakling and unable to live the normal life of a teenager. Over the summer, he is shipped off by his parents to a special hospital located in a remote desert-like area where he is to undergo a groundbreaking treatment. After enduring months of questionable medical experiments performed by a group of doctors who are supposed to help him get better but in reality are keeping him sick on purpose all in the name of medical research, Jack escapes from the clandestine medical facility and heads for home.

While Jack was being experimented on against his will, a clone of himself named Hyde was sent to his hometown as an imposter. Enter Jack’s good friend Kayle — “The Freakazoid” — and Claire — Jack’s longtime girlfriend — who begin to see the chinks in facade. To complicate matters, Hyde can’t stand the sight of Claire and begins to develop romantic feelings for Kayle.

When Jack returns home, he comes face to face with his clone and while at first the two boys can’t stand the sight of one another, they soon stumble upon the plan to destroy them both and become allies to fight for their right to co-exist.

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Chapter Two

Kayle  Blog

 

School— the bane of just about every teenager’s existence. You all know how I feel about it. I don’t think I can find anyone who actually likes being there. Even the vast majority of the popular kids hold a special loathing for the place, and that’s saying a lot because they’re, you know, the popular kids. Their only advantage is they somehow figured out how to make the institution known as high school, bearable.

I’d almost be jealous if it didn’t mean sinking to the level of conformity required to fit in. Is there something wrong with partaking in school spirit and going to the weekly big game? No, but those things also didn’t meet my interests, so why should I feel the pressure to go to them? Why should I be outcast for doing my own thing? Being one with the crowd just for the sake of belonging feels an awful lot like selling out to me. Even at sixteen-years-young, I know that selling out is not worth it—ever.

If I didn’t need a high school diploma to get a decent job I actually liked, I probably would have dropped out as soon as I was legally allowed to. However, I’ve put in so much time at Becker High, I need to finish if only so I don’t feel like I’ve wasted so much of my life there.

To my advantage, I do get the privilege of roaming through the hallways unnoticed. People stay out of my way, and I stay out of theirs. Do they whisper about me behind my back? Of course they do. If there is a catty girl in the school who doesn’t hate my guts, I would have to wonder if I had landed in another dimension. When aren’t high school girls being catty? Am I right? Even I find myself partaking in the sport every so often—only out of self-defense. Though, I swear, taking the high road is a lot easier said than done when the same five people like to push every single one of my buttons. Yup, that’s right. I’m about to go on a Jack rant. Okay, maybe not a rant, but another story about him. Why do all of my interesting stories have to revolve around him?

Yes, that’s right, Jack Andersen—the sick kid who happens to be my locker neighbor. For those of you who are new to my blog, I’ll give a brief history lesson. Like most of the students in my class, I’ve known him since preschool. During assemblies we almost always have to sit by one another whenever the grade is organized by alphabet.

Jack used to be sweet. I used to feel bad for him. Used to.

The guy is always in and out of the hospital. Jack suffers from some bizarre illness that affects all of five people on the entire planet—or so the rumors say. Having known him for so long, I’ve witnessed enough of his poor health to know for fact he is in rough shape. The sickly pale color of his skin is sometimes even tinted with green on especially bad days. Oh, and how thin he is, like he only has enough muscle to keep himself alive and moving and nothing more. The frailness is another thing. One wrong move and he could be on his way to the ER with a broken bone. I’ve watched it happen many times.

Somewhere between middle school and high school, Jack ended up becoming Mr. Popular. It probably had something to do with him catching the eye of the most popular girl in school, Claire Winters…who is Satan incarnate. Ever since then, he changed and sick, sweet, Jack wasn’t so sweet anymore.

It makes being his locker neighbor a nightmare.

Back to the story. So I’m watching the main entrance of the school from my locker, keeping my eyes peeled for Jack or his girlfriend to grace the building with their presence. If I don’t sit down in front of my locker every morning, the most adorable couple of Becker High will make sure to invade on my space with their fluffy, obnoxious, PG-rated PDA. It would be easier if the two would just make out on top of my locker, but no, they have to go for the kill with their terms of endearment and Claire’s high pitched squeal of a giggle.

Claire walks into the school first. Because I’m the observant artist that I am (and for some reason some of you actually care about this stuff): her long, blonde hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, and her large, perfect curls bounced with every step she took. She, of course, wore a tight black sweater. It went far enough down her torso to barely cover her abdomen, because her low-rise, boot cut, jeans certainly weren’t going to. Black, high heeled boots clicked down the hallway past me at record breaking speeds. The girl didn’t even glance toward Jack’s locker as she went by. Even when Claire and Jack fought, there was always at least one look at his territory. Immediately I knew something was up.

I’m thinking: maybe the rumor I heard last Friday was true after all. During orientation last week, there had been whispers that Jack had died, or gone into a coma, or something equally as tragic, over the summer. I’d heard the rumor a number of times before, so I didn’t think much of it while I was setting up my locker for the year and taking my ID photo. After all, if I believed everything I heard, I’d be a member of a cult, slept with an entire rock band, and did heroin on a regular basis. Rumors are nothing more than modern day fairy tales. Fantasy filled lessons of life, or unrealistic happily ever afters, or in Jack’s case: the tragic end to a great hero.

For a moment, my gaze followed Claire down the hall to her own locker and I tried to get a read on what was going on based on body language alone. There were no tears, but Claire’s body was more stiff than usual, which was saying a lot for the coldest of ice princesses. Despite being petite in size, Claire usually holds the confidence of a giant, strutting around as if she owns the school and everyone in it. All of that attitude and arrogance was missing from the girl I saw this morning. When students started to surround Claire in droves, offering up tearful hugs, the rumor of Jack’s demise became a reality.

I contemplated briefly going over and offering my own condolences. It seemed like the right thing to do. We’re far from being close friends, let alone acquaintances, but I still knew Jack well enough. Even if he was sometimes a complete dick to me, he didn’t deserve to die or suffer the way he did. At the same time, joining in on the crowd to express my sympathies didn’t seem right either. It needed to happen in a private moment or it would probably come across as insincere.

I looked over at Jack’s locker, or what was supposed to be his locker. Every year we were on a different floor of the school, but always right next to one another. The empty space would be strange, or even worse...having someone new to annoy me for the rest of the year.

Would the school fill his vacancy so quickly? The guy was popular and loved by teachers as well as students. He didn’t cause trouble, just made stupid comments about business that wasn’t his. Almost everyone thought of him as some kind of martyr, sent to this world to suffer. If he did truly die, his sainthood would be validated. The idea makes me want to gag.

Then, all of a sudden, the halls grew eerily quiet. One-by-one the students’ chatter faded into silence. No one dared to cough, let alone sneeze. Outside of one classmate who decided to shut a locker, it was unbearably void of sound. I am not making this up.

Next, I heard the heavy, arrogant, swagger of footsteps coming toward me. Like the red sea parting, students moved to either side of the hall, giving me a perfect view of Jack walking to his locker from the front door of the school. I’d been so busy watching Claire and everyone else, I hadn’t thought to keep watching for the newcomers.

Jack’s appearance wouldn’t have been so intriguing if everyone else wasn’t acting as if they’d seen a ghost. Not to mention, there were things different about him. His body had lean, healthy muscle and a nice, natural, tan coloring to his skin. Rather than looking like a member of the reanimated dead, he actually resembled a human being. Everything else about him was the same. The short, platinum blond hair that was styled in neat, gelled spikes was still present. Jack hasn’t updated his haircut since he was twelve. His preppy attire made the classic All-American appearance complete. Ew. A miracle happened over the summer.

The silence broke when Jack started to whistle, acting as though nothing were out of the ordinary. In truth, nothing should have been. He must have been the only one who didn’t get the memo on his death.

“Morning,” he greeted me, looking down at the paper that had the year’s locker combo written on it.

I shifted my gaze up to him. “Huh?”

“I said, morning. Buenos dias, bienvenidos, pick your favorite.”

I stared up at him with raised eyebrows.

He frowned. “Konichiwa? Ni Hao? Guttenmorgen? …why are you looking at me like I have three heads all of a sudden?”

“If you hadn’t noticed, everyone is looking at you like you have three heads,” I said in a staged whisper.

“Why?” he pressed.

“You didn’t hear that you died over the summer?” I asked.

“Again?”

“Yeah, I know. You die every summer and holiday.” I, surprisingly, managed a small laugh, taking advantage of the pleasant moments with him while I could. When he’s nice to me, I do enjoy his company.

Jack rolled his eyes and pulled out a few books from his locker. “That’s one rumor I’m happy to officially get rid of.”

“J-Jack,” Claire’s soft voice broke in.

He spun to face her and gave her what appeared to be a rather forced smile. “Hey beautiful girl.”

“Your mother said...”

“She was misinformed,” he said blandly. “Obviously I’m alive, and even better, I’m cured.”

“H-how?” Claire’s eyes brimmed with tears. The whole scene was starting to turn into some kind of bad teenage soap opera program.

Jack placed a finger over her lips. “I don’t want to talk about it right now. What matters is I’m here and fine. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

At that point, I tuned out. The two were going to get sappy, and I would lose my breakfast if I continued to subject myself to it.

Some people think I’m jealous of people like Jack and Claire. They’re beautiful, popular, and the definition of perfect. The great deal of animosity I hold against them would be a symptom of said jealousy. So was the nauseous feeling in my stomach whenever I watch the two lock lips repeatedly over Jack’s locker, or tried to. For some reason, Claire’s kisses seemed to only land on his cheeks and forehead this morning. But honestly? I can’t think of one thing to be jealous about. Because they had each other? I have plenty of time for boyfriends once my pickings aren’t limited to the population of Becker High.

No, my problem with them isn’t jealousy. It’s annoyance. They are annoying and rude. At least Jack seemed to get some common courtesy over the summer because he finally didn’t subject me to their cutesy lip pecking. No one does that anymore. Get in the new millennium. What else annoys me about him and Claire? They are too perfect. It’s surreal how flawless they are. So no, it’s not jealousy per sé, it’s a deep frustration over the future of my generation—remember: Jack and Claire are considered cool. Everyone who isn’t me wants to be them. Soon, there will be hundreds, thousands, maybe even millions of Jack’s and Claire’s destroying originality forever.

“Get a room,” the voice of Miles Stanson said, though it was mostly in jest. Still, it got them to stop, right? He nudged Jack into his locker before going in and giving the other guy a large hug. “Man, is it good to see you.”

I gazed up at Miles, who is probably the only popular kid in the school who doesn’t make me want to beat my skull against a wall. The guy is genuine, doesn’t play the stupid games the other popular kids play, and has something resembling intelligence in his brain. He acknowledged me with a small wave, and then went back to bothering Jack.

Laughing, Jack returned the hug, a look resembling relief was in his eyes. His entire body relaxed, as if he actually wanted Miles to interrupt his moment with Claire. Come to think of it, when they had been kissing, he’d been less involved in the process. While she tried to crush her mouth against his, he was much more conservative and only nuzzled her. I thought that was a bit strange. Shouldn’t they have been exchanging saliva and tongues like there was no tomorrow? Regardless of the rumor, I had heard Jack went away for the summer for some kind of special treatment program. No doubt they missed one another. That’s what normal people do when they’re apart for a long time, right?

Miles’s next question confirmed this rumor. “What happened this summer? You were supposed to call and keep me posted.”

“Don’t be offended, man, I didn’t get to call anyone,” Jack said. “Not even my parents or Claire. They were kind of strict about using the phone.”

“Isn’t that kind of weird?” Miles asked.

He shrugged. “Given all of the other things I had to do while I was there, I didn’t have a whole lot of time to talk anyway. But yeah, it seemed a little weird to me too. It got results. I shouldn’t complain.”

“Yeah, that’s for sure.” Miles stepped back and briefly did a once over on Jack. “You look as good as new.”

“I know, maybe I should actually try to play football this year instead of just manage the team,” Jack joked.

Miles clapped him on the back. “If you think you have some kind of natural skill, we could use the help. Not doing too well this year. Then again, having you back on the team to help with strategy and morale will help.”

“Can you boys talk sports later? I’m kind of in the middle of something here,” Claire said, glaring intently at Miles before her gaze wandered down to me to give me one too for good measure.

I rolled my eyes, and returned the glare, making sure to not be phased by Claire’s immaturity.

Also unbothered was Miles, who laughed it off. “You can have him for the other twenty-three hours of the day, promise. The bell is going to ring soon anyway. I’ll bug you about it at lunch, dude. Then I can get the rest of the team to back me up and you can tell us all about your awesome time in California. I mean, you couldn’t have gone down there and done nothing right?”

Jack’s body stiffened ever so slightly. No one else probably noticed it, but I did. His jaw tightened. “Right, yeah, lunch, sounds good.”

“Cool.” Miles gave a wave and made his way down the hallway. A few other friends of Jack’s attempted to come up and say hello as Miles was leaving, but anytime someone got close, Claire made sure to ice them out with glares and the possessive way she clutched onto Jack’s shirt.

Carefully, Jack lowered her grip on him, instead holding her hands in his own. “I have to get to class. Being late wouldn’t be a good idea.”

“What’s your first class?” Claire asked, and I was about to block them out again now that things were no longer interesting. Jack’s answer surprised me for some reason.

“Advanced World Lit,” he said.

My class. I had to suppress a groan. Why did he have to invade on my territory? The first thing that passed through my mind was: If she’s in that class too, I’m giving up on junior year.

The pout Claire wore was like some kind of pathetic puppy dog who’d just lost its favorite treat. “Boo, I thought you were going to stay in Spanish with me this year. There’s only one class for third year students.”

“I tested out.” He kissed her forehead. “I gotta go, I’m sorry. I’ve gotta organize my locker and all that other stuff still. I just got back on Saturday so I’m kind of discombobulated. But I’m sure we’ll have a class together later.”

“Okay, I guess I can live with that.” She kissed his cheek. “Bye Baby.”

“Bye,” he said, a large smile on his face. As soon as she was out of sight, the smile faded and he muttered under his breath. “Psycho.”

That caught my attention again. I gazed up at Jack, eyes wide.

He met my gaze with his own. “You’re giving me the three heads look again.”

“I heard what you said.”

“What, bye? Ooh, scandalous.”

“No, the other thing,” I said. I’m not crazy. He called his girlfriend a psycho.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” He winked, grabbed his notebooks for class, and then shut the door. “Come on, let’s go.”

I pursed my lips together. “Excuse me?”

“I can walk you to class?”

“Why do you want to?”

He shrugged. “Why not?”

I peered up at him. “Don’t you hate my guts?”

“Nah, but I do think you’re weird.” He paused. “Right? I mean, you are weird?”

Something about his hesitation confused me. He’s called me a weirdo, a freak, and a whole slew of other synonymous nicknames. Most are harmless. What hurts me most is the fact he feels it necessary to say them more than the actual words themselves. I expected so much more from him. Why would he hesitate as if he weren’t sure if he should say it to my face if he’d never had issues with it before? Did he finally have a change of heart? Perhaps he grew a brain while in Cali? Or rather, his brain regained its ability to think properly now that it’s healthy again.

Standing and gathering my things for class as well, I rolled my eyes again, because that’s what I do when I’m annoyed. With everything I needed in my arms, I slammed my locker door shut. “I prefer individual, but if being my own person is weird, then yes, I’m weird. Strange. Bizarre. Call me whatever you want, Jack, because what you think of me doesn’t matter in the slightest. It never has.”

“Awesome, so I can walk you to class,” he said, shutting his locker and then grinning down at me.

With a groan, I started down the hall. Jack kept pace with me. I still haven’t figured out why he was so gung-ho about taking me to class. My guard is up though in case it’s some kind of awful prank. It would not surprise me in the slightest if Claire arranged something over the summer to humiliate me in front of the whole school. When I call her Satan incarnate, I’m serious, and she’s got a huge beef against me for some reason even though I’ve done nothing to her. It’s not even because I’m “weird”, because she’s sweet as pie to all of the other kids who have still maintained their individuality. She’s nice to everyone. E.V.E.R.Y.O.N.E. But me.

Something is up. Outwardly, everything about him is exactly the same. On the inside, he’s different, and I am going to figure out why.

I gotta run. There will be more to this story later, you can guarantee it. Just had to vent my frustration over Jack being Jack. Once again, he’s the center of attention and if he thinks he can play mind games with me, he has another thing coming. My gut says he’s changed, though, and if that really is the case, then I need to be prepared even more because Claire isn’t going to like it.

Why do I get the feeling I’m the one who’s going to suffer the most no matter what happens?

 

Cloud S. Riser is a Minnesota native. She has lived in Minnesota her whole life. She will probably remain there for her whole life too. The mother of The Squid, Skyscraper, and two cats, her life is definitely never dull. An adventure she braves with her husband. In order to stay sane, she creates massive amounts of fiction which she has decided to share with the rest of the world for the simple reason of: she is a storyteller.

Links

Website *** Facebook *** Twitter *** Instagram *** Youtube *** Amazon *** Goodreads

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Follow the tour HERE for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and a giveaway!

 

Source: snoopydoosbookreviews.com/blog-tour-jack-hyde-cloud-s-riser-excerpt-giveaway
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text 2017-11-15 07:10
Blog Tour - Guarding Erin

Title: Guarding Erin
Author: Nicole Flockton
Genre: Adult, Special Forces Romance
Published: November 7, 2017
Page Count: 166 Pages
When Carlos “Italy” Porcelli helped a former SEAL brother, he never expected to come face to face with his high school sweetheart, Erin Furlan. The second he finds out her life is in danger from her former mob boyfriend, he will do everything in his power to protect her and keep her safe. Guarding his heart from remembering the past and wishing for a future will take all his steely SEAL resolve.

Erin Furlan believed her life was back on track after her mob boyfriend got arrested when the family he worked for got taken down. How wrong she was. Now he’s back and wanting retribution. What she never expected was Navy SEAL and former sweetheart, Carlos Porcelli, to swoop in and save her. As she tries to break away from her ex’s hold, she’s drawn closer to Carlos. Erin’s not sure her heart can take another beating, as she’s certain Carlos is going to walk away from her again.

Being in close confines, their past filters into their present and when Erin is kidnapped, Carlos will do anything to save the woman he’s falling for. He only hopes he reaches her in time.
 
 

 
 
 

Guarding Erin Excerpt © Nicole Flockton 2017
Exhaustion bit at her heels. It had been a shit of a day. A computer software problem had all their reservations jumbled up tighter than a pair of stockings in a washing machine. The last thing she wanted to do was go to dinner, but she really needed a girl’s night.  
She turned the light off and closed her office door. At the end of each day a sense of pride filled her with all she’d accomplished in the past four years. Hard work and determination had gotten her to the position of General Manager quicker than she ever imagined possible.  
Before she left, she stopped at the registration desk. “If any issues crop up overnight, call me. No matter what the time.” 
The clerk smiled. “Certainly, Erin. Hopefully, I won’t have to. Have a good night.” 
“Thanks.” Secretly, Erin prayed her phone wouldn’t ring. After dinner she planned to go home and fall into bed. Between the stress of Bryan turning up in her life again, and today’s work drama, a solid eight hours of sleep sounded like an unreachable dream. 
She skipped down the stairs, glad to be outside and absorbed everything that made New York, New York. The sounds of taxi drivers sitting on their horns, the aroma coming from the hotdog stand on the corner, the flow of people streaming out of the subway stations.  
“Hello, Erin.” 
Shocked at hearing Carlos’s voice, her foot slipped and she missed the bottom step. Instead of finding herself kissing the sidewalk, warm, strong arms closed around her. Without thinking, she laid her head on Carlos’s chest. She breathed deeply and the aroma of hotdogs was replaced with a tangy citrus smell that was intoxicating. She inhaled again.  
He chuckled. “Did you just smell me?” 
Erin came to her senses and pulled away from him. Surprise made way for embarrassment. “What are you doing here?” 
If she thought her terseness would put him off, she was living in a fantasy world. Instead of putting distance between them, he grabbed her hand again. 
“I got your text message and I was worried.” 
“What text message?” Confusion colored her thoughts. She knew she’d sent him a text last night, but she hadn’t asked him to travel up to New York to see her. She expected him to call.  
His hand went to his pocket and pulled out the phone, all the while he maintained his hold on her. Her skin sizzled from the connection, drawing her back to the first time they’d kissed when they’d been sixteen. At the time, she’d thought her reaction to his touches and kisses had been because he was her first boyfriend. A crush that had turned into juvenile love. Now she had to wonder. 
After the first couple of dates with Bryan, her body had never flared to life like hers was doing right now. They were only holding hands for goodness sake.  
“This message.” A phone was shoved under her nose. 
“I didn’t send ...” She re-read the message and then it hit her. This was the message she’d started to send to him while on the subway and then she’d had second thoughts. “I, um, I didn’t mean to send it to you.” 
“Right. Who were you sending it to.” 
She could fabricate that she was sending it to a friend. Somehow she didn’t think he would buy it. “You.” 
“But?” 
“Well you didn’t respond to my message last night and then I didn’t know what to say.” 
Everything she’d told him was the truth. The only problem was she still didn’t know what to say to him. For a brief second on the train she’d wanted to ask him for his help with Bryan. She’d helped him, he could help her. But could she ask that of him though? 
“I was out last night, and didn’t see your message until I checked my phone this morning.” 
“Uh huh. Well,” she looked at their connected hands and then at the crowd bustling around them. “I’ve got plans, so I’d better get going. Good seeing you, Carlos.”  
She went to pull her hand out of his grip, but he tightened his hold on her. 
“What’s going on, E? And don’t tell me nothing. I know you. I can see the tension in you.” 
Anger rippled through her and she yanked her hand out of his grip. “You don’t know me at all now. You were the one who walked away from me. From us. And yes, I’m tense. After the shit day I had, you’d be tense as well. Now, if you’ll excuse me I’ve got places to be. Real friends to catch up with. Goodbye, Carlos.” 
Bestselling author Nicole Flockton writes sexy contemporary romances, seducing you one kiss at a time as you turn the pages. Nicole likes nothing better than taking characters and creating unique situations where they fight to find their true love.

On her first school report her teacher noted "Nicole likes to tell her own stories". It wasn’t until after the birth of her first child and after having fun on a romance community forum that she finally decided to take the plunge and write a book.

Apart from writing Nicole is busy looking after her very own hero – her wonderfully supportive husband, and two fabulous kids. She also enjoys watching sports and, of course, reading.
 
 

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review 2017-11-15 04:17
I Wore My Blackest Hair by Carlina Duan

 

I honestly don't really understand a lot of poetry and I was hoping this book would be different, because I really do like poetry and want to "get it" better, if that makes sense.

There was pain and beauty in some of the poems, but could not get the meaning behind most of them. Maybe I'm not meant to? Poetry is very personal to the writer. If I related more to Carlina's life, would I understand them better? The writing style was different from how I see a lot of poems, very interesting, but might have been one of the factors in making it hard for me to understand.

Despite not getting most of the poems, I still really enjoyed reading this book. I like that it challenged my brain and made me think.

**Disclaimer, I won an ebook copy through a Goodreads giveaway.**

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text 2017-11-14 15:06
Excerpt: Caressed by the Edge of Darkness by Amanda J. Greene (Tour) ~ Giveaway

 

Caressed by the Edge of Darkness
 
Paranormal Romance
Date Published: 10/10/17
 

Hardened by centuries of torture, former blood slave, Gabriel Erhard, is driven by an insatiable need to destroy his enemies. Violence darkens his battered soul, leaving no place for mercy in his world. Gabriel’s only desire is vengeance—until he finds her.

 

Seized by vampires, bound as a slave, and placed on the auction block, Jordan Culver is instantly entranced by the dangerous male who claims her. Jordan’s new captor vows to set her free, but his haunted gaze burns with savage desire and his wicked kiss makes her crave his touch and…complete surrender.

 

While Gabriel battles his enemies, he will break every sacred law to achieve his ultimate goal—uniting the Outcast Society and creating a new vampire Clan. But the distracting human with mesmerizing violet eyes jeopardizes his plans. With every soft whisper she evokes his tormented memories, testing his sanity and challenging his every boundary. Can Jordan help him overcome the miseries of his past and find a future with her? 

 

 

 

 

Gabriel set her on the edge of the tub before turning to the cupboards lining one of the walls. He began to rummaging through their contents, searching for something.

 

Steam rose from the water and Jordan couldn’t resist dipping her fingers into the warmth. Bad idea. She tumbled and fully anticipated to meet the water. A large hand gripped her shoulder and pulled her upright. “Can’t leave you for a second.” Though Gabriel’s tone was sharp, his eyes sparkled with amusement.

 

“Sorry, I haven’t recovered my balance yet.”

 

He shrugged then tossed two pink discs in the water. They instantly began to fizz and the room filled with the scent of midnight blooming jasmine. The water foamed over, billowing clouds of bubbles took shape.

 

Gabriel reached over and turned the faucet off. “I should give you some privacy, but I’m afraid of leaving you alone.”

 

She smiled. “I promise to stay in the shallow end.”

 

That earned her a chuckle. “See that you do. I’ll be right back. Try not to slip or drown in my absence. I’d hate to have spent so much energy saving you only to have you perish from an accident in my home.”

 

How is a girl supposed to respond to that? She shrugged. He’s a sweetheart.

 

Jordan’s fingers trembled as she unsuccessfully worked the buttons of the shirt. This was going to take forever. After another futile moment ticked by, frustration got the best of her. Gripping the material with both hands, Jordan tore it apart. Buttons flew like tiny missiles, some binged off the mirror over the double sinks while others bounced and rolled across the floor.

 

Once free of the shirt, she scooted her bottom back and gingerly slipped into the welcoming heat of the water. “Oh, yes,” she sighed, her eyes closing. This was exactly what she needed. She sank further under the bubbles and rested her head on the rim. The warmth eased her aches and twinges and chased away the cold that permanently settled in her bones.

 

“Good. You survived while I was gone.”

 

Jordan’s eyelids snapped open. “Y-your back already.” Did she just squeak like a mouse?

 

The edge of his lips twitched, but he didn’t smile.

 

She cleared her throat and eased into a sitting position. Stretching her arms wide, she drew a mass of bubbles to her chest to conceal her breasts. “Not going to lie, it was touch and go there for a minute.”

 

Again he resisted a smile. Why? He’d be beyond gorgeous if he smiled.

 

Gabriel set a way too large black robe on the counter then headed back to the wall of cupboards to pull out a stack of fluffy white towels. After placing the pile beside the tub, he said, “That should be everything you need. I’ll remain in the room to grant you privacy.”

 

“No.” The force of her tone even caught her off guard and the panic that had laced that one word struck her like a blow to the gut.

 

“Jordan?”

 

“Sorry.” She flashed her best I’m-fine smile. “For the last few days…weeks? Damn, it could’ve been months, I’ve been locked away. Isolated. I missed having someone to talk to.”

 

Anger flashed in Gabriel’s eyes but vanished as quickly as it appeared. He gave her a tight nod then crossed to the counter. Leaning against the granite edge, he folded his arms over his wide chest.

 

“You’re staying?” she asked, trying her hardest to hold back her surprise.

 

“Warning, I’m not one for chatting.”

 

“A man of few words, uh? I like that.” Jordan smiled then dipped below the water’s surface. Slicking her matted hair back, she reached for the bottle of shampoo. Her fingers still trembled. She cursed when the bottle slipped from her grip and banged to the floor. Gabriel abandoned his post to retrieve it.

 

Studying her hands, she curled and uncurled her fingers. Was it the shock of the night’s experiences, the remnants of adrenaline? Or was it withdrawals? How long ago was her last dose?

 

“What time is it?”

 

“A little past eight.”

 

Her eyes went wide. “In the morning?”

 

He answered with a nod.

 

“Shouldn’t you be dreaming of nocturnal rainbows and blood fountains right now?”

 

Gabriel arched a single golden brow. “Nocturnal rainbows?”

 

“Yeah, or…whatever vampires like.”

 

“Such as unicorns.”

 

Jordan gaped. Had the rough and gruff vampire made a joke?

 

“The sun doesn’t rule us all,” he added.

 

“In other words, you’re old and very strong.”

 

Again, a silent nod was her answer. How interesting, she thought. Her aunt had explained that powerful vampires could resist the call of the sun. Rumor was some could even walk under its rays without becoming as crispy and chard as burnt fried chicken. Could he chill on the beach and not burst into flame?

 

Gabriel offered her the shampoo. This time, Jordan reach for it with both hands, but still couldn’t hold on to it. The bottle dropped into the tub and water splashed across Gabriel’s shirt. “Sorry. My hands won’t stop shaking.”

 

He dipped his arm into the water and retrieved the bottle. “Would you like me to help you?”

 

Heat stung her cheeks. His hands in her hair? Oh, yes. Lord, please! A simple touch could lead to so much more. Did she want more? Was she ready for more? Never had she been so completely attracted to a man. Her interest in the opposite sex normally rated next her love for oral surgery—seriously low. But Gabriel Erhard, the Chief of the misfit Outcast Society, was no ordinary guy a girl would meet walking in the mall. He was a warrior to the bone: lethal, powerful, and sexy as sin. His dangerous aura and I’ll-protect-you-from-everything-but-me gaze called to her wild, base instincts. She wanted him with a ferocity she never knew existed inside of her. Since the night they’d met at the bar, she’d been infatuated with him and while she languished away in Hell, her desire to see him, to hear his voice, to feel his touch one more time was torturous. Gabriel Erhard, the enemy of her enemy, the male who dared to break the laws of his society to save the humans and bring peace to the realm of darkness, was a man she’d fight to possess.

 

Jordan mentally shook herself. She’d never been the brazen type and short of throwing her naked body at him, she wasn’t sure how to seduce the big, bad vampire. Was he single? Did he find her attractive? She’d felt his erection earlier—hadn’t she?—while she drank his blood.

 

Whoa. I didn’t drink his blood. That had been a dream. Jordan’s brows pinched into a frown and she began nibbling on her bottom lip. That hadn’t happened. Right? Her hopes dwindled as she realized she’d likely imagined his reaction to her when he placed her on the bed.

 

“Jordan?”

 

At the sound of his forceful voice, she violently flinched, sending water cascading over the side.

 

“Are you feeling well?”

 

She met his gaze and the concern she saw there made her heart melt. “I just got lost in here,” she tapped her temple, “and I’m not used to having company.”

 

Gabriel’s eyes flickered black with rage then return to their serene, normal green. “You’re here now and you’ll never experience that again.” He went to his knees beside the tube. “Turn around. I’ll wash your hair.”

 

Mouth suddenly dry, Jordan gave a silent nod of her own. She turned in the water and dunked her head under again. When she came back up, Gabriel was ready. His large hands worked the shampoo into her matted hair. His touch was so light, so gentle, and welcome. Her eyes drifted closed and she swore she heard purring, from him or her? 

 

 

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Amanda J. Greene creates paranormal romance for ravenous readers. She lives in Southern California, where she enjoys escaping the rewarding but hectic world of writing by spending time in the sun and sand with her military husband and their two dogs.
 
 

 

 

 
Source: angelsguiltypleasures.com/2017/11/excerpt-caressed-by-the-edge-of-darkness-by-amanda-j-greene-tour-giveaway
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