Rina’s Quick Audio Bytes ~ Audiobook Reviews in Short: Mud Vein by Tarryn Fisher

Quick Audio Bytes

Rina’s back with her review of the Mud Vein by Tarryn Fisher audiobook! 

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Mud Vein by: Tarryn Fisher

Narrated by: Simone Lewis
Genre: Romance/Psychological Thriller
Source: Audible

Story: 3.5
Performance: 4
Overall: 4

“Life is too short to hide your wrongs, so I hide myself instead.”

Senna Richards is a reclusive novelist. She wakes to find herself in a strange bed, wearing unfamiliar clothes in her particular size, and locked inside a house with enough food to last a seasonal winter. The most unsettling discovery, she is not alone. Senna must revisit her painful past and piece together the clues, slowly closing in around her, before it’s too late.

Upon finishing Mud Vein by Tarryn Fisher, I decided to digest the story a bit before writing my review. Ms. Fisher penned one of those rare novels that left me seriously unsure of whether I loved or hated the book. To be honest, I’m still undecided. I will say that the writing is top notch. Descriptive prose that draw you in so deep you feel as though you could reach out and touch the world created.

“Clarity bleeding through my denial. Warm against my numb brain.”

The main character was intense and flawed. Almost flawed to a fault. My lack of compassion towards Senna Richards at times could have much to do with my indecisiveness regarding the story as a whole. Mud Vein started slow, but my principal issue rested with the ending. I felt the tie up a bit rushed and somewhat unbelievable. The thriller junkie inside me had hoped for more of a psychological twist.

Simone Lewis did an excellent job of narrating Mud Vein. Her voice was clear and concise, leaving the line between character and storyteller indiscernible. A trait I’ve come to appreciate in a good narration.

All in all, Mud Vein was an interesting offering and a good choice for any reader who enjoys a enigmatic puzzle with a slow reveal. I found Ms. Fisher’s style of writing complex and beautiful, and I fully intend to check out more of her books.

 

~Rina

 

About the author:

I am a real life villain, truly. I drink sick amounts of Starbucks. Most of the time my hair smells like coffee. I was born in South Africa, and lived there for most of my childhood. I moved to Seattle just for the rain. Rome is my favorite place in the world so far, Paris comes in at a close second. I read and write more than I sleep. When I was eleven, I wrote an entire novel about runaway orphans, using only purple ink. I am addicted to Florence and the Machine and will travel to see concerts. I love scary movies and giraffes. I spend way too much time on Facebook. Meet you there?

Website

Cover Reveal…Forever Found by Nazarea Andrews

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Today we are revealing the cover for FOREVER FOUND by Nazarea Andrews. This is a novella that will be released on December 30th and it is the stunning conclusion to the story begun in Girl Lost.

 

BOOK BLURB:

Losing Gwen was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to survive. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love her.

But finding her was never about that. And now that I have found her–now that she knows the truth about me and the Island, I have to trust her to believe. Because her leaving me didn’t just destroy me–its killing Neverland.

I need her to love me. But we all need her to believe again.

Peter Pan has grown up and found the girl who left–but the stakes are higher than ever in this romantic conclusion to the story begun in Girl Lost.

 

CLICK HERE TO ADD FOREVER FOUND TO GOODREADS.

 

 

EXCERPT:

Gwen is leaning against the window. Every time I leave her, I forget. She’s not all gangly limbs and huge eyes and dirty hair hanging in her face, flinching at her own shadow. Not anymore. That Gwen still haunts my island, but this—this Gwen is breathtaking.

She thinks she’s broken. Fractured pieces of a broken mind, held together by medication and stubborn denial. But she doesn’t see herself, not the way I do.

Lane had that right. She’s breathtaking—even now, when I know she’s sad and broken. She stands straight, a pair of thin sleep pants curving around her ass before falling loose and free to the floor. Her shoulders are back, graceful and strong, under the thick sweater she’s wearing, her hair pulled into a messy knot at the top of her head.

She can see me, my reflection in the dark glass. And I see the tension in her tighten, drawing her up and sharp, until she’s almost vibrating with it. “Why are you here?” she asks, her voice low and hoarse.

She sounds like that when she’s been crying. I know—I’ve heard her so many times, heard her tears. Wiped them away. Whispered happy thoughts until I teased a smile from her.

“Peter,” she snaps, and I jerk, out of the memories and into the moment.

“You ran away.”

She gives an unladylike snort. “You decided you were a delusion of my past, and then you expected me to sit there and listen to your insane ramblings. Thanks, but no. I can’t do that. I’ve had enough crazy for one life.” She bites her lip, and then blurts, “You stole my file, didn’t you? That’s how you know about the Boy.”

“Do you remember the firefly meadow?”

She goes still, and I smile, gently. “You do.”

“That wasn’t real,” she whispers, and I feel the shudder.

“We’d hide there, from the lsot boys. And you’d fall asleep telling me your happy thoughts, and wake up to a galaxy of fireflies, and we’d chase them until you made yourself sick, laughing. And then I’d hold you and we’d stare at the stars, and you always said they were different. It smelled like jasmine and honey-“

“And wild woods and freedom,” she whispers, her blue eyes impossibly wide in her pretty face. I take a tentative step toward her, and touch her fingers.

Why are your stars different?

“It wasn’t a delusion, Gwendy. You know it wasn’t. Trust yourself.”

She shudders. “Can’t. My mind lies. It wasn’t—“

“Gwendy,” I say, desperately. Her eyes are filling with tears and I can feel the disbelief, the way it will tear apart the world I’ve known, and the girl I’ve loved, and I can’t. I move without thinking, catch her head and bring her lips to mine.

 

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Site – http://www.nazareaandrews.com/
Blog – http://www.nazarea-andrews.blogspot.com/
Twitter – https://twitter.com/NazareaAndrews
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Hard To Come By by Laura Kaye…Release Day Event

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We are beyond thrilled to bring you the Release Day Launch for Laura Kaye’s HARD TO COME BY! HARD TO COME BY is the third full length novel in Laura’s Hard Ink Series, published by Avon Romance. As a special treat, through December 2, pre-order Hard to Come By or purchase it during release week, and receive exclusive bonus content! Just fill out the quick form here!

 

Hard To Come By Cover

Buy at Amazon | Amazon.ca | Amazon UK | B&N | iTunes| Kobo

Hard to Come By on Goodreads

Pre-order or purchase before December 2, and get awesome bonus content!

Excerpt:

Marz was playing with fire. He damn well knew he was. But that didn’t make him want to pull away.

He just wanted more of the heat.

Marz nuzzled the side of Emilie’s face with his nose, his lips. She turned her face toward him and offered her lips. He couldn’t refuse.

Capturing her mouth on a tortured groan, Marz poured every ounce of his longing and confusion and desire into the kiss. They grasped at each other and Emilie turned in his arms. He pinned her against the railing and planted his hands in her hair. She opened to him and accepted his tongue, sucking him in until Marz’s blood ran hot and his hard-on ached. He ground himself against her and devoured every little moan and whimper and gasp she spilled.

Trailing kisses from her mouth to her jaw to her ear, Marz dragged a hand down her body and grasped her breast in his palm. She cried out and her head dropped back, drawing his mouth to her neck, where he licked and sucked and nipped as he kneaded her soft flesh. “You are so damn sexy.”

Her hand flew to his hair and grasped the back of his head. “Touch me,” she said. “Don’t stop touching me.”

Marz pulled away long enough to do a three-sixty scan. The lighthouse cast a dark shadow over them, and the pier was otherwise empty. His heart raced and his pulse hammered. He dove back in, trailing kisses down her neck to her collarbone, which he traced with his tongue. Her nails scratched deliciously at his scalp and her grip urged him down.

Through the thin material of her blouse and bra, he mouthed and flicked at her nipple. He shifted the deep vee of the neckline to reveal a lacy royal blue bra. He tongued her through the lace until she was panting and moaning and writhing against the railing.

“Oh, my God,” she rasped as he shifted her shirt and moved to her other breast. This time, he tugged the lace down to bare the deep pink of her nipple. She tasted and smelled like something fruity and sweet, and it made Marz hunger for more. “Derek,” she gasped. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Her palm cupped and squeezed the bulge of his erection through his jeans. His hips jerked into the touch, craving more of her, all of her. He groaned and it seemed to egg her on, because she pressed and rubbed her hand against his trapped cock until he was panting and imagining taking her down to the ground.

“Jesus, Emilie, you’re driving me fucking crazy,” he said as he worked kisses back up her body to her mouth.

“I know just what you mean,” she said. Her molten hot gaze met his. Eyes hooded, lips shiny and swollen, cheeks flushed, she was a freaking goddess standing under the moonlit sky. He felt the force of her beauty every bit as much in his chest as in his cock.

“You sure about that, babe?” he asked as he took her mouth in a deep, wet kiss. “Because my imagination has me stripping you of those fuck-hot jeans.”

“Yeah?” She rubbed his cock in a long stroke with the heel of her hand. “Mine has us getting a room at the hotel back there. So I’m sure,” she said with a smile.

Marz’s heart hammered against his breastbone and his cock jerked, clearly liking her idea, too. Except, if he took her up on it, he was going to end up buried inside her for as long as she’d have him. And so long as this clusterfuck of a situation defined their relationship, he couldn’t take things that far. Could he?

 

HTCB Available Now

About HARD TO COME BY:

Caught between desire and loyalty…

Derek DiMarzio would do anything for the members of his disgraced Special Forces team–sacrifice his body, help a former teammate with a covert operation to restore their honor, and even go behind enemy lines. He just never expected to want the beautiful woman he found there.

When a sexy stranger asks questions about her brother, Emilie Garza is torn between loyalty to the brother she once idolized and fear of the war-changed man he’s become. Derek’s easy smile and quiet strength tempt Emilie to open up, igniting the desire between them and leading Derek to crave a woman he shouldn’t trust.

As the team’s investigation reveals how powerful their enemies are, Derek and Emilie must prove where their loyalties lie before hearts are broken and lives are lost. Because love is too hard to come by to let slip away…

HTCB Teaser 1

 

And don’t miss the other Hard Ink books, now available:

Hard As It Gets

Hard As You Can

Hard to Hold On To

Praise for Hard to Come By:

“Rough sex and explosive fights power Kaye’s third Hard Ink novel, a thrilling adventure that feels more like an action movie with a romantic subplot than a typical contemporary romance. New readers will head straight for Kaye’s backlist after powering through this installment.” ~Publishers Weekly Starred Review
“TOP PICK! If you’re looking for danger, gritty action, and sizzling passion, then Kaye has just the book and the series for you.” ~RT Book Reviews Magazine

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Author PhotoAbout Laura Kaye:

Laura is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over a dozen books in contemporary and paranormal romance. Growing up, Laura’s large extended family believed in the supernatural, and family lore involving angels, ghosts, and evil-eye curses cemented in Laura a life-long fascination with storytelling and all things paranormal. She lives in Maryland with her husband, two daughters, and cute-but-bad dog, and appreciates her view of the Chesapeake Bay every day.

 

 

 

 

Website | Blog | Facebook | Hard Ink Puppy FB | Twitter | Newsletter SignUp | Goodreads

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Mrs. Kaplan and the Matzoh Ball of Death by Mark Reutlinger…Blog Tour Stop & Review

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Synopsis:

Move over, Miss Marple—Mark Reutlinger’s charming cozy debut introduces readers to the unforgettable amateur sleuth Rose Kaplan and her loyal sidekick, Ida.

Everyone knows that Rose Kaplan makes the best matzoh ball soup around—she’s a regular matzoh ball maven—so it’s no surprise at the Julius and Rebecca Cohen Home for Jewish Seniors when, once again, Mrs. K wins the honor of preparing the beloved dish for the Home’s seder on the first night of Passover.

But when Bertha Finkelstein is discovered facedown in her bowl of soup, her death puts a bit of a pall on the rest of the seder. And things go really meshugge when it comes out that Bertha choked on a diamond earring earlier stolen from resident Daisy Goldfarb. Suddenly Mrs. K is the prime suspect in the police investigation of both theft and murder. Oy vey—it’s a recipe for disaster, unless Rose and her dear friend Ida can summon up the chutzpah to face down the police and solve the mystery themselves.

Advance praise for Mrs. Kaplan and the Matzoh Ball of Death

“Is there kosher food in jail? These two heroines have gotten themselves in quite a pickle! Well, it’s a matzoh ball mess, really. Too deliciously funny!”—Rita Mae Brown, bestselling author of Nine Lives to Die

 

My review:

Mrs. Kaplan and the Matzoh Ball of Death is the first cozy mystery from author Mark Reutlinger and is a fun and quick read that reminded me of The Golden Girls meets Columbo. I really enjoyed it!

There’s been a suspicious death during this year’s seder at the local home for Jewish seniors and the police are on the case. It turns out the victim, Bertha Finkelstein, has choked on an earring that seemingly has been cooked into one of Mrs. Kaplan’s matzoh balls. But things are not as they appear as this mystery will lead Mrs. Kaplan and her friend Ida on the search for the real culprit, since Mrs. K knew it wasn’t her. They sure have their work cut out for them and in the end, these women have a good shot at solving this culinary misfortune and prove that neither Mrs. K nor her famous matzoh balls are to blame.

This was a fun read for me, especially being a Jewish gal myself. There was a lot of yiddish being spoken between the characters which really appealed to me and reminded me a whole lot of my own grandmother and the friends she has at our local home for Jewish seniors. I enjoyed the mystery as well and thought that Mrs. K’s investigation was fantastic. There was a lot of wit and charm despite the fact that this was actually an investigation into an unfortunate death. Again, it really did remind me of The Golden Girls and I loved this departure from my normal genres.

If you’re looking for a quick and entertaining read, this is a book to get on your list! Thank you Mr. Reutlinger for bringing us the mysterious case of the matzoh ball of death!

3andaHalfLovesRLBThree-and-a-Half Loves

 

Book links:

Amazon  |  Goodreads

Giveaway:

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About the author:

Mark Reutlinger is the author of the novel Made in China and a professor of law emeritus at Seattle University. Born in San Francisco, Mark graduated from UC Berkeley and now lives with his wife, Analee, in University Place, Washington.

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Darkness Unbound by Zoe Forward…Blog Tour & Excerpt

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Synopsis:

Covert op partners Astrid Scarre and Kane Langford click on a level that defies logic. Astrid wants to say yes to the sexy Kane. But the guy who stole her heart and then shattered her soul twelve years ago shows up. Seeing the Dragon magus, Zannis, again ignites a wild physical attraction, but doesn’t eliminate her simmering hatred. Astrid is torn between her physical need for Zannis and her emotional connection to Kane.

Kane will never turn his back on Astrid, even when she gets inducted into the Scimitar magi, an organization he knows well and respects. His gorgeous ex-spy partner might push him away at every turn, but that’s too bad. He’s exactly the man she needs to protect her life and her heart. All he has to do is convince her that when something feels this right, you don’t let it go.

 

Excerpt:

“Astrid…” He tried again. Yet his face moved toward hers until their lips met. His thigh pushed between her legs, pressing tight right where she wanted him to be. He tilted her face back and dragged his lips along the line of her jaw. “We shouldn’t…”

Just get in the shower with me, she instructed him in his mind.

He tilted his head to meet her gaze, appraising her offer. Something dark passed over his expression. “We would fall right into the gods’ plans.”

She leaned forward and teased his nipple with her tongue. “They are gods. We are not. Let’s face it, they’re going to win.” She glanced upward and thought to him, Don’t you want me?

“I always want you. Never doubt that.”

 

Buy Links:

Amazon | Barnes and Noble | Goodreads | Kobo | iTunes | All Romance

Giveaway:

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About the author:

Zoe Forward is a hopeless romantic who can’t decide between paranormal and urban fantasy romance. So she writes both. In addition to being a mom to one rambunctious kindergartener and wife to a conservation ecologist who plans to save all the big cats on the planet, she’s a small animal veterinarian caring for all the small furries, although there is the occasional hermit crab.

When she’s not typing at her laptop, she’s tying on a karate belt for her son or cleaning up the newest pet mess from the menagerie that occupies her house. She’s madly in love with her globe trotting husband of ten years and happiest when he returns to their home base in North Carolina.

Links:

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Saving Poughkeepsie by Debra Anastasia….Blog Tour Stop & Giveaway

Saving Poughkeepsie releases tomorrow, 11/22

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Saving Poughkeepsie

by Debra Anastasia

Add Saving Poughkeepsie to: Goodreads
On 11/22 Buy from: Amazon | Barnes and Noble

Beckett Taylor’s quest to be a better man has brought Eve Hartt back into his life, but sometimes it feels like they’re bound together with barbed wire. Though he longs to love her without causing pain, the wreckage of their past continues to crash down around them.

Yet with the help of this brothers—and for his brothers—Beckett won’t stop trying. He’s determined to make them all a family, to make a life they want to live, and to make Poughkeepsie a place that’s safe to live it.

He can feel their futures balanced precariously on his shoulders: Blake and Livia and their children, Cole and Kyle and the new baby they’ve just brought home, and Eve…always Eve. He wants their dreams to be real. But murderers don’t just get Happily Ever After handed to them. They have to wrench it away from Satan himself.

Good thing Beckett is prepared to do just that. After all, saving Poughkeepsie is the only way his story ends.

Prepare your heart and your head for a wild ride in this final installment of the Poughkeepsie Brotherhood series. Debra Anastasia does not disappoint as she weaves the last chapter of a story that blends true love, turbulent emotions, and life’s harsh realities into an uplifting tale that calls to the good in each of us.

 

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Excerpt 1:

“I’m not worried about tomorrow. I’m worried about right now, with you, under this Christmas tree.” Blake supported her neck as he laid her on the floor.

Livia turned her head. “You’d better convince me. So far you’ve talked about the dog going to the bathroom, trash, and dirtiness.”

Blake kissed her jaw and turned her head gently, kissing her mouth as she bit her lips together.

“Can’t I just convince you with my manly ways?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

He could, of course, do just that—but she shook her head. She loved the playful sparkle in his green eyes. His five o’clock shadow just made him more handsome, framing his kissable lips with scruff.

“Okay.” He put his fingers at the bottom of her shirt, lifting it gently so he could circle her belly button with his index finger. “You’re the sexiest, most beautiful woman on this planet. So sexy, in fact, that I had to have you. I had to make you bear my children because my universe and yours had to be combined. Everything I’ve ever been needed to be buried inside of you, so deep, so full of love that we created life. Twice.”

He lifted her shirt and kissed the tops of her breasts, whispering his devotion into her skin. “And it’s never enough. Unless I can hear you coming, I can’t think of anything else. All day every day. For years now. You’re that powerful, Livia. This. Us. It’s so intense that years haven’t cured me. I can’t stop wanting to make love to you.”

“Wow.” Livia smiled and pulled his face back to hers, kissing him and effectively stopping his beautiful words.

 

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Book 1 on sale for .99 cents starting 11/19/14

Poughkeepsie

(Book 1)

Amazon  |  Barnes & Noble  |  Audio Book Poughkeepsie  |  Poughkeepsie Enhanced Collector’s Edition for iPad ($12.99)

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Return to Poughkeepsie

(Book 2)

Amazon  |  Barnes & Noble

TPB Series on Make A Gif

Excerpt 2:

“Come with me.” He led her to the beach again, but during dinner a few people had been busy. It was now lined with an aisle of candles, and a man stood close to the breaking surf, hands crossed, waiting. Someone had used the surrounding sand as a canvas, creating a swirling pattern. Their names were part of the art.

What? She asked without a sound.

“I want you to marry me. Here. Now.”

Beckett let go of her hand and strode away. When he turned around, close to the water at the end of the aisle, he hoped to hell she wasn’t running in the other direction.

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Forgotten Promises by Elle Brooks…Release Day Blitz

Congratulations to Elle Brooks 
on her highly anticipated release of
Forgotten Promises
Saying “I Promise” is the easiest thing to do, its just two tiny words. 
No one warned me of the weight they hold, that they not only have the power 
to make something, to give hope, or show devotion. 
They can destroy everything, cause so much hurt, ruin lives. 

 

Every promise holds a toll, if I had known what mine would cost me, 
I would have walked away. 
Now I have to pay the price, watch the consequences of my actions unfold. Witnessing someone I love crumble after breaking my oath 
isn’t the hardest thing I’ve endured, 
it’s being forgotten by the one person that I could never forget.
 
Forgotten Promises Exclusive Excerpt:
I can hear soft piano music filtering through the muggy afternoon air as I cross the threshold,
making my way down the cold stone isle towards the alter.
I can feel people stare, their gazes penetrating my skin, as if each one physically presses upon me
with the intensity of a searing hot branding iron.
I’m all too conscious of the hushed whispers that are floating around in the desolate atmosphere.
I’m shivering as I make my way to the front; I can’t get a hold on my nerves.
Voices that I don’t recognize uttering; “Is that the girlfriend? She was in the accident too, wasn’t she?” infiltrate my senses.
Are these people really that ignorant, that they have all forgotten by design, this place is built to carry noise?
Each comment I catch as I near my destination feels more scathing than the previous. I focus my attention on the vast grandeur of the stained glass window at the front of the church, and watch as the suns midday rays are passing through the colored panes, casting a rainbow that cascades down over the congregation of mourners.
The bright hues are a stark disparity against the sea of black suits and white collared shirts.
There doesn’t seem to be a single fleck of color on anyone’s clothing, except that of the police decoration pinned proudly to the uniforms of the officers sporting them. They’re a welcomed break in the monotonous army of glum clones.
My fingers are closed tightly around the stem of a single white rose I’m holding. I didn’t know if I should bring flowers or not, but now I wish I hadn’t. I need to walk over to his coffin to lay it down; I hadn’t thought of that. Bile rises in my throat, and the tears that have formed are threatening to fall. I’m holding my breath, eyes wide, willing them to dissipate, as I return my focus once more to the window instead of the casket. It’s too soon to be doing this again.
The painful memory of Emily’s funeral, still raw and exposed, lay’s unwelcomingly at the forefront of my mind. It’s playing on an agonizing loop, taunting me, reminding me. The aesthetics couldn’t be further from hers though; Emily’s funeral service was akin to walking into a child’s birthday party. Balloons adorned the ends of each pew in varying shades of shiny pink and purple latex. Cheerful, bright gerberas had been placed on every available surface, and there wasn’t a single solitary piece of black clothing to be found.
We had been given explicitly strict instructions to wear ‘happy clothes’ or she would ‘haunt our asses for all eternity,’ Em’s words, not mine. There was to be no gloomy piano music either, no nineties power-ballads singing songs of heartache and pain. Instead, the church was filled with dubiously dulcet tones from One Direction’s Story of my life. I’d practically scoffed when Em announced to me that she’d found the perfect funeral song. She proceeded to tell me that she’d narrowed it down to 1D or Bon Jovi’s Sleep When I’m Dead.
In any other circumstance, I’d have voted Bon Jovi all the way, but I had to concede on this one. I almost smile at the
memory before realizing where I am and what I’m doing.
I slow my pace further; not wanting to reach my destination but there’s no avoiding it. Within my next three steps,
I’ve reached the coffin. I can’t prolong the inevitable any longer;
I look down to the long mahogany box, laid before me, topped with what must be hundreds of roses.
My whole body trembles as I reach out to place my flower amongst the other tributes.
I catch my reflection against the highly polished surface of the wood and begin to feel dizzy. I blink my eyes attempting to refocus my vision as my fingers loosen their grip on the rose. My hand brushes against the cold hardwood and I pause briefly, wondering if it’s time to wake up yet. Wishing for a different reality to the one I exist in at this moment. I hear Ethan’s mom softly call out my name, but I can’t move. I’m frozen in place by… I don’t even know what, fear? Memories?
“Blair, honey… come sit by me,” it’s an order rather than request; suddenly she’s by my side and ushering me to take a seat.
I let her lead the way; there’s only her sitting upfront.
“My mom couldn’t find a parking spot; she’ll be here any minute, is it okay for her to sit here too?”
“Of course, it is,” she smiles weakly. “You’re family.”
I look at her and take in her appearance; her eyes are puffy and tired, and she looks completely worn out and defeated. A shadow of the woman Ethan fist introduced me to months ago. The piano music stops and a minister appears at the lectern; I look wide-eyed at Moira and then glance at the empty seat where my mom should be right now. I need her here; I can’t do this without her.
I can’t bear to sit through another funeral.
Moira senses my anxiety and runs her hand down over my hair, she squeezes my shoulders and then pulls me into her side, and it’s much the same as what my mom would do. The minister starts to speak, but I don’t hear any words through the sound of the blood rushing in my ears. I can’t do this I’m not ready. I blink and let my first tear fall, no doubt carving the way for more to follow. I had agreed to come for Moira, I felt bad that she would have to face this alone. I look blankly out to the front, but I can’t see anything past my pain.
*Excerpt is unedited and subject to change. The above material is protected by copyright.
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@peruseprincess @Ellebrooksautho
 
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Dangerous Denial by Amy Ray…Review

Dangerous Denial cover

Synopsis:

Denying the past proves deadly for BK Hartshaw and Trevor Mayhew in this gripping noir novel where nothing is as it seems. BK is a rising star at a public relations firm, and tonight’s charity ball should be a high point in her career. But a closely guarded secret threatens to destroy her chance for happiness with the only man she’s ever loved… a man who is also hiding a deadly secret. Trevor has tried to put the past behind him, pretending it never happened. But the conniving father he’s been running from for years has finally found him-and is determined to settle the score once and for all. BK and Trevor’s deeply buried secrets are about to catch up with them-and everyone they know and love. Who will pay the ultimate price for their dangerous denials?

“The sins of the parents are visited upon their children in this entertaining thriller. BK’s (short for Beatrice Karen) and Trevor’s lives collide when a charity ball erupts into violence. Tightly plotted suspenseful moments and a deftly-executed plot twist combine to keep readers holding onto this novel until the wee hours.” – Publisher’s Weekly (2008 ABNA review)

 

My Review:

Dangerous Denial is the first work from author Amy Ray and let me just say, what a fantastic debut it was! Thrilling, gut wrenching and emotional, this book had it all.

Dangerous Denial follows the childhoods of two different children who have similarly awful upbringings. Trevor Mayhew had a horribly abusive father who hated him with ever fiber of his being and took all his anger out on Trevor whenever he had the chance. Trevor’s mother tried to keep him as safe as possible, as often as she could, but when Trevor didn’t have her any longer, the only person he could rely on was his loving grandmother. The grandmother who had kept him safe and taught him what love really was. His grandmother would save him one night, and he would try his best to rebuild his life and bury his past once and for all. BK, while wasn’t abused physically, got her share of emotional abuse while growing up. Her mother and half-sister never missed a chance to make her feel less than both of them. Fat, ugly, nerdy. Once her mother got remarried, she was able to get out from under her thumb and head off to school where she could hopefully thrive. Eventually, fate will bring BK and Trevor together. The questions that remain are have they both been able to overcome their horrible pasts…are they capable of love and being loved?

Whew! This book was freaking amazing. Now, there is a HUGE twist that I can’t give even a teeny bit of away, but it is one of the best twists I’ve ever read. I felt so bad for Trevor and BK and their wretched childhoods. Trevor more than BK. That poor little boy was treated like trash and I felt so awful for him. I wanted to reach into the book and hug his poor beaten body. But I never lost hope that he would eventually get away from the abuse and have a good life. His grandmother was brave and loving and I admired her strength when it came to Trevor and standing up to his monster of a father. Poor BK was always put down, and in the worst ways for a young woman. It was always about her not measuring up and it damaged her self-esteem terribly. Luckily BK met a wonderful friend along the way and they forge a strong bond that BK needed. Now, I can’t tell you how Trevor and BK’s paths cross but I will leave you with this: nothing is as it seems.

The plot was packed with twists and turns and I was kept on the edge of my seat until the very end. I loved that and I loved the “whoa” moment author Ray wrote into this story. It was well done, with subtle hints along the way, all leading up to a fantastic ending.

Thank you, Amy! I will be looking forward to reading more of you in the future!

4LovesRLBFour Loves

 

Book links:

Amazon  |  Barnes & Noble 

About the author:

Amy Ray lives near the short but picturesque seacoast in New Hampshire with her husband and daughter. Before becoming a writer, she owned an old fashioned five and dime store where, in addition to regular priced merchandise, she had a display of items that actually retailed for five or ten cents each. When not writing, she has rediscovered the joy of tap dancing.

Dangerous Denial is her first novel. Her short story “All’s Fair” will be published later this year in Love Free or Die, the fourth book in the New Hampshire Pulp Fiction Series.

 

Website  |  Twitter 

The Vineyard by Michael C. Hurley…Review

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Synopsis:

From Michael Hurley, winner of the Chanticleer Reviews Grand Prize for his debut novel, THE PRODIGAL, comes a complex and ambitious tale of old money, young passion, and ancient mystery in a classic New England seaside town.

Dory Delano, Charlotte Harris, and Turner Graham have been drifting through life since their days as roommates at Smith College, ten years ago. Dory is resisting taking the reins of her family’s legacy and fortune even as she relishes the fabulous lifestyle it affords her in the fashionable seaside resort of Martha’s Vineyard. She invites her old friends to join her for a summer on the Vineyard in hopes of rediscovering the innocence of old days and healing new wounds. But hidden in their midst and unknown to all but a few, a reclusive—some say dangerous—fisherman wanders alone, fueling wild speculation about his purpose and his past. None of these women can imagine the events their encounter with the fisherman will set in motion, the shadow he will cast over their destinies, or the transformation that awaits the world they know.

 

My review:

The Vineyard is a work by author Michael C. Hurley and had piqued my interest after reading the synopsis. It is a story that straddles the line between genres I normally gravitate to and genres I don’t usually seem to pick up that often.

This book was rather intriguing and held my interest, primarily because of the mystery of “the fisherman” and what was going on with the group of three girlfriends who had come to Martha’s Vineyard for a reunion of sorts. Dory, the daughter of wealth and high society, Turner, the flighty spitfire who can’t seem to settle down, and Charlotte, the newly divorced mother who had last her only child.

Three unlikely and very different friends have come to spend some time together after a tragedy had broken one of them. Spend time healing and strengthening the bonds of their friendship. Along the way, they meet an odd stranger who will end up helping them in ways that no one will be able to explain. Even to this day.

This story really, in my mind, focused on just how far in different directions people’s lives go and the paths they travel down in their own personal journey. It also brought home just how special friendship is in life and no matter what, and no matter how unlikely the relationship, true friends will always be there. These women share so much in just one summer. There were health scares, bouts of serious depression, wedding plans, scandalous behavior, and even a few miracles that happen along the way. It was really amazing to see in one summer just how much these gals change throughout the book. They each began the summer as one person, and ended it completely changed.

If you’re in the mood from a departure from your normal reading material, and are looking for something intriguing and absorbing, The Vineyard is a book you should pick up. Thank you, Mr. Hurley, for a thought-provoking and enjoyable read!

 

4LovesRLBFour Loves

 

Book links:

Amazon  |  Barnes & Noble 

About the author:

Michael Hurley and his wife Susan live near Charleston, South Carolina. Born in Baltimore, Michael studied English at the University of Maryland and law at St. Louis University. Michael’s first book, Letters from the Woods, was a collection of essays, self-published in 2005, based on wilderness canoeing expeditions with his children. It was selected as a finalist in the Nature category for ForeWord magazine’s Book of the Year award. In 2013 Hachette Book Group published his memoir, Once Upon A Gypsy Moon, under their Center Street imprint. The Prodigal is his first novel.

Website 

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The Game by H.J. Bellus…Book Blitz

Today is the day!

Chapter 1 of THE GAME.  Find out who the blonde beauty is who gives Levi THE GAME of his life.

 Who is ready for THE Game ?  

Who wants to win a $100 Amazon Gift card?

Read the details below and make sure to follow each step for your chance to win!  Winner announced on December 16th.  

 
HOW TO WIN…
Send a screenshot of your pre-order confirmation of
THE Game to hjbellus@gmail.com.   
Subject line MUST read
THE Game  to be eligible.  All entries

without this subject line will be disqualified.  Please make sure to add the photo to the body of the e-mail. Attachments will not be opened. Winner will be chosen on release day, December 16th at release day party.  Watch for the link to be revealed in the NEAR future. Contest is limited to USA only.


 

 

Make
sure to join my Facebook event for release day!

 

Is Levi Wilks ready for her? Is he ready for “The Game” of his life? 


 

 

 
 

 

Chapter
1
Levi
“Surgery went well, Levi, but it looks like you’ll still be out about two full months. You should be back on the field mid-season. My advice is to rest up and follow your
physical therapy to perfection.”
“Two months?” I question, hoping I heard him wrong.
“Levi, your body can’t take many more hits, and it definitely deserves a full
recovery.”
Trying to sit up in the bed, I begin to argue again. “But football is my…”
“It’s only going to take one wrong hit on your spine, and you’re done. Done, as in the
rest of your career, or finished, as in a wheelchair. Without a full recovery, your chances
of being in a wheelchair the rest of your life is heightened.” Dr. Valentine hesitates a
moment, jotting down some quick notes on a prescription pad, and then continues. “It’s
your choice, Levi. You need to give your body the time it needs to heal. I will be the
only one clearing you to play again.”
The doctor’s words are crystal clear, and I can see none of my razzle dazzle and shit
talking will convince him otherwise. The words finished and done scare the living shit
out of me. They are my worst nightmare and truly haven’t been a reality for me until
now. I feel it every morning when I get out of bed. Muscles, bones, and joints all scream
in protest with every single movement. Just the simple act of tying my shoes has been
painful.
I knew it would be a vicious tackle to take me out, and it was.  In a fucking preseason
game where it’s understood to take it easy on the players, especially the first string.  I
guess karma is a bitch. I saw number eighty-two flying in my direction, but chose to put
all my faith in my linemen to block him or at least hold him off until I released the ball.
There was a wide-open receiver for a gain of about twelve yards, but I wanted the long
bomb for the TD. When I saw my receiver finally open up in the end zone, it was just
about the exact time the defender took me out. Lost the ball, lost the game, and lost my
opportunity to play for two months.
“Want me to contact your father? You’ll need someone around.”
“No, I’m good.”
“Levi, I can’t stress to you how important this recovery is. You’ll need someone
around for physical and mental support. I don’t think any of your blonde bombshells
will be much assistance at all.”
His last words make me laugh because he’s absolutely right. None of my frequent
weekend entertainment is in it for the long haul. They’re all plum satisfied with a
weekend full of hot and heavy sex.
“No, don’t call my dad. I don’t need his judgmental, overbearing ass on me.”
“Well, you’re going to need some type of assistance over the next two months. Who
else is here in Dallas?”
While finally being able to shift my head enough to look out the window, I answer,
“I’ll have my driver pick me up.”
“You’ll need help, Levi.”
“I’ll fucking take care of it.”
Everything inside of me wants to pick up the nearest object and chuck it at the
window or the doctor’s face. Glass breaking or some bones crushing under my hands
would feel brilliant right about now. I have nothing left to live for until I can get back
out on that field.
If I were my brother, Lincoln, I’d have a loving wife and a dog at home to comfort
me while I heal. Instead, I have trophy case after trophy case to console me—oh, and my
three Super Bowl rings. The one thing about the trophies and rings is they are amazing
and life altering to win in the heat of the moment and during the passion of the game,
but the metal grows cold mighty fast, leaving behind rapidly fading memories.
My dad has always groomed me to be a living legend, something to talk about for
years and years. Football was and has been my only option, throwing the pigskin in the
back yard after school and on weekends, attending every single football camp within a
hundred miles of home, and watching tape after tape of game films. I could recite any
playbook when I was six years old. Lincoln, on the other hand, loves football as well,
but played it his way. He did it without dad’s approval. And that’s my biggest regret; I
wish I could’ve been strong like him. Instead, I was molded into my dad’s dream.
Feeling guilty and like a typical ass, I finally let the surgeon know I’ll be okay and
taken care of.
“I’ll call my driver and fly back to Colorado to one of my homes.”
“Who is there to help you?”
“Lincoln and Lynlee.”
“Good, I’ll set up a physical therapist for in home services. We’ll do everything on
our end to get you back out on the green.”
“How many nights do I have to stay here?”
“With how smoothly the surgery went, I’d just like to observe you for the next couple
days. Why don’t you make arrangements to fly out on Thursday?”
“Fine.”
“Do you want to call any family or friends?”
“Nope.”
“Levi, I’d like to help you through this.”
“Then I need more pain meds.”
Moments later a nurse walks in, and I watch as she injects something into the tube of
my IV. She’s quite the hot piece of ass. I’d definitely be tapping that shit all night long.
She even has a sweet smell covering her body that I could easily visualize myself
consuming.
“Levi, this will make you drowsy,” she says, capping the needle.
I can’t seem to pry my eyes from the back of her as she reaches up to dispose of the
needle and syringe in the red container.  A strip of her flesh peeks out between her
scrubs, and this narrow glimpse sets me on fire.  I find my hand willing itself to reach
out and touch her before she turns around.
“I’ll be your night nurse, so if you need me, push this button. Oh, my name is
Ashley, so just let me know if you need anything, and I do mean anything.” She finishes
off her words with a flirty little wink in my direction.
My insides turn with her looks, scent, and presence. I’d definitely be taking this one
home for a couple nights. Yes, she’d be granted a VIP pass to the Wilks’ Wild Weekend
Express, hosted smack dab in my bed at my mansion in Dallas. My hand finally
responds, stretching out in her direction, and when she places her petite little palm in
mine, I know I have her.
“Ashley, I could do so many things to you. I’d love to see those panties of yours…”
Before I can finish my last word, everything goes black.
***
“Sir, you’re not supposed to walk. I’ll get your wheelchair.”
“Just shut the fuck up and get my bags.”
I let Lincoln know I was coming to stay for the next couple months. For fuck’s sake,
in reality it’s my house. Lincoln and Lynlee have lived here since they married. They
both wanted to stay in Colorado since it was the place they met, and Lynlee wanted to
go to college. Lincoln lucked out and was drafted to Denver.
The assholes have the perfect life just the way they want it. I can’t deny the fact; they
fought tooth and fucking nail to get it. They didn’t pussy out and let someone else call
all their shots, and I, for one, wasn’t going to allow them to live in the home Lincoln and
I were raised in.
Dad and Lincoln have truly worked through most of their shit, and Lincoln still came
out the way he wanted. Played defense, went to the college he wanted, majored in what
he wanted, dated who he desired, and let his middle finger fly to the rest who didn’t
approve. Not me. I’m the oldest, and yearned for approval around every corner, leaving
me with a hollow life.
“Sir, you are not supposed to walk.”
Turning to the naive puke of a driver, I lay into his ass. “Do you fucking realize
you’re talking to? Do you?”
The young douche clams up. The look on his face is almost comical. Even in my
weakest state, I have the power to bring pussies like him to his knees, and I enjoy every
fucking second of it. It might make me an arrogant ass, but being a dick is the only
saving grace I posses.
“And you weren’t supposed to be born, so shut the fuck up, already,” I add to sting
the wound a little more.
I feel muscles rip and tear as I try to peel myself out of the limo. The pain is familiar
and immediately reminds me of my younger days when my dad demanded perfection
from each pass. I now have the same sensation years later trying to simply walk from a
car to the front fucking door of my own home. The pain is so intense I want to ask the
young puke to honk the horn to get Lincoln’s attention to come help me, but then again
it might even be worse to have the brother I envy help me.
I never would’ve thought ten simple steps would be the longest of my ever-loving
life, but I want to be the dick to knock on my own door. I bet Lincoln is about to sit
down and eat dinner with his wife, with his dog lying obediently at his feet. Fuck, I bet
she’s the kind of woman to bake his ass chicken potpie every Thursday night. What a
douche.
Before my hand instinctively turns the doorknob, I decide to ring the doorbell at the
last minute. I chuckle to myself, imagining Lincoln complimenting Lynlee on his dinner
and petting her knee under the table, only to mutter curse words when he hears the
doorbell ring. Lincoln may be a wild spirit, and we might as well have different fathers,
but I can call his next move from a mile away. Some might say we haven’t been brothers
for years, yet I know him better than anyone on this earth, and right now he wants to
knock the lights out on the fucker ringing his doorbell, because he was moments from
taking his wife to bed.
When the door opens, it’s neither Lincoln nor Lynlee looking back at me. To my utter
amazement, my fucking little bro has gone and hired the hottest fucking home nurse. A
blonde bombshell stands before me, and I try hard as I can to keep my jaw from
dropping wide open. Every muscle in my body is aching, yet my cock has no problem
springing to action for the juicy blonde. It’s obvious my home nurse hasn’t had the
chance to change into her naughty little nurse outfit.
“Well, are you going to invite me in, Nurse Nancy?”
“Excuse me?”
Talking slowly and deliberately, I say, “Are. You. Going. To. Invite. Me. In?”
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” she asks, and the rush of her hot breath
brushes my lips.
The smell is so sweet and tender it makes my cock bulge even further. I know one
thing for sure; this nurse will be checking my blood pressure topless tonight.
“Levi,” comes a familiar voice, Lincoln. “You’re supposed to be in a wheelchair.
What the fuck you doing walking already, bro?”
“Well, if Nurse Nancy here could help a fellow out…”
Not only do I say it, I also gesture with my hand, grabbing myself.
Another voice joins the mixture, and it’s Lynlee’s this time. “Levi, you made it.”
When her gaze hits mine, I see the same concern as in my brother’s eyes. They know
I should be sitting and not standing. They know the consequences all too well.
Without allowing her to respond, I relieve their stress. “Well, if Nurse Nancy would
move her ass, I could get up into my bed and get down to business. I knew Valentine
was setting up in home therapy, but not an in home nurse.”
Grabbing the inside of the doorjamb, I force myself up into my house, and looking
around the place, I really like what they’ve done with it. Looks like a home, the perfect
loving home complete with two dogs to kick.
The big tittied blonde looks mystified and almost a little horrified with my arrival.
Doesn’t the bitch realize this is, in fact, my house? Or maybe she has no idea a three-
time world champion just graced her with his presence.
“Weren’t expecting your patient to arrive so early or what?” I finally ask, breaking
the silence.
“I’m not a nurse.”
Losing my patience with this stuck up bitch, I demand, “Then who the fuck are you?”
The bitch really has some balls, as I watch her step up into my face, pinning me down
with her best death stare.
“Stop,” Lynlee yells and pushes her way in between us. “Levi, this is my best friend,
Jazzy. She’s staying here with us.”
 
 

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