2017/11/17

THE HOUSE THAT ADELIA BUILT by Mya O'Malley

THE HOUSE THAT ADELIA BUILT
by Mya O'Malley

Genre: Paranormal Romantic Thriller


It all started with a woman and a lighthouse. The House that Adelia Built spins a tale full of love, lies, and betrayal at the hands of a man Adelia calls Augustus—her own husband.

In the late 1800s, Augustus finds a job as lighthouse keeper on a beautiful, but isolated island. He can’t wait to bring his new bride home to the lighthouse, set on majestic bluffs, which have laid claim to many shipwrecks.

Augustus soon suffers from the effects of self-induced isolation, as Adelia watches him slowly lose his grip on reality until he turns mad, bringing forth dire consequences.

Meet Hope, a modern day quiet, quirky young woman with a case of agoraphobia—or so it would seem. She feels an inexplicable pull toward the lighthouse and the bluffs beyond. Hope struggles with her internal battle and seeks to find the truth about her unsettling, recurring nightmares. Maybe then she can discover why she has always felt so alone and unusual.

Enter Clooney, a handsome, unassuming stranger who soon becomes so much more to Hope. The very woman who has guarded her heart in the past will soon find herself wrapped in a web of denial, leading to a heart-wrenching reality.

For every truth she exposes, more heartache is found. Hope must come face-to-face with her worst fears as she uncovers the mystery surrounding her spellbinding connection to the lighthouse.


Prologue

1876

It was an evening like any other, yet it was to be a night that she would never forget—for it was a crucial piece of the puzzle that would ignite the course of Adelia’s destiny.

Sharp, crisp wind bit at every inch of her exposed skin. Almost completely winded, Adelia spun her head once more, just to be sure she hadn’t been followed here to the towering cliffs. A darkened sky matched her desperate, dismal mood.

Augustus never disappointed in stealing any smidgen of brightness from her mind, but tonight he had pushed, until, she, too, had crossed the thin line over to the brink of madness.

Yes, her husband was going mad.

Insane.

Insane with rage, jealously, control, apparently sparked by boredom and gin. Adelia couldn’t imagine a worse possible combination. One could activate a fire sure to burn through and destroy any soul with those caustic ingredients.

Whenever Augustus would finally place his head on the pillow beside her, Adelia would wait out the thickness, the raw stench of alcohol and bitterness, until she could finally allow herself to breathe once Augustus began to snore. It was only then that her hands would grip the quilt which rested upon her body. Then she would cautiously count to fifty. Fifty usually did the trick, but at times she had added a few seconds more, just to be sure.

Tonight, she had run for her life before his head had hit the pillow.

Now safely outside, her fists unclenched and her breathing slowed until she could release the soft wail that fought to escape. As if she couldn’t control it, her neck craned to spy behind her once more. Augustus had been at the gin for hours today, starting much earlier than ever before; she could only hope he wouldn’t give chase, that he would pass out cold.

Recently, she had fooled herself into thinking that if only she could try hard enough, perhaps they could get back to that sunny place where they had first fallen deeply for one another.

Was there such a spell? She frowned, knowing such a spell ceased to exist. Her trick no longer worked; she couldn’t fool herself into thinking everything would be okay.

Not now.

Not anymore.

Months of self-reflection had consumed Adelia. She could hardly think of anything else. At first, she wondered if their downfall could have possibly been partly her own fault—Adelia may have played a hand at her heart’s demise. But, no, she had yet to find one shred of proof that argued against the fact that Augustus had been the one who had changed. Oh, it had been ever so slightly at first. An offbeat comment here and there, a sideways look. But then, as surely as the dark tides shifted, it seemed that once they made the lighthouse on the cliffs their home for more than several months, the very beacon which served to steer ships to safety in these treacherous waters diminished her own brightness and replaced it with a gradual shift to darkness.

She clung to the small sliver of a chance that she could fix this. Yes, she could throw her shoulders back and help this stranger her husband had shifted into, before it was too late.

Surely some came back from the brink of madness, right? But then the horrifying image that haunted her dreams plagued her mind once more. She shut her eyes tight, pushing the vision out of her head.

Tonight her husband had sunk to a new low, even for him.

Before the hole proved too expansive to dig out of, she told herself she needed to act—now.

Was that a shadow lurking in the distance? Was it Devon, arriving early, or had Augustus found her?

Her heart leapt with fear. No, nobody was there. It must have been the wind or possibly her mind playing tricks, for once she focused her gaze on the spot, she could see nothing but the trees close behind her.

Adelia purposely slowed her breathing. She would need to put her plan in place quickly, but for that, she would need to speak with Devon. He should be here any minute.

But, there was the sound again. This time, she was sure she heard footsteps, and when she called out, nobody responded. Now she stood, hands clenched in tight fists, determined to face the unidentifiable figure approaching from beyond.

There was nowhere to go, of course. No choice but to face the unknown. Adelia turned her head, her vision lit by the full moon above. She judged the distance from the edge of the cliff. There was no place else to go but down.





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Mya O’Malley was born and raised in the suburbs of New York City, where she currently lives with her husband, daughter and step-daughters. The family also consists of a boxer named Destiny and a ragdoll cat named Colby. Mya earned an undergraduate degree in special education and a graduate degree in reading and literacy. She works as a special education teacher and enjoys making a difference in the lives of her students.

Mya’s passion is writing; she has been creating stories and poetry since she was a child. Mya spends her free time reading just about anything she can get her hands on. She is a romantic at heart and loves to create stories with unforgettable characters. Mya likes to travel; she has visited several Caribbean Islands, Mexico and Costa Rica. Mya is currently working on her eleventh novel.


2017/11/16

THE ANNA JENNINGS SUPER NOVEL SERIES by E.J. Whitmer

THE ANNA JENNINGS SUPER NOVEL SERIES
by E.J. Whitmer

Genre: Romantic Comedy




Anna Jennings is no superhero. In fact, had you asked her about superheroes a week ago, she would have called you crazy. She believes in routine, working hard and playing harder. But that all changed one night when she and her wayward sidekick Carl discovered several of her co-workers engaged in some decidedly non-run-of-the-mill human activities. Now her life is in a whirlwind as she finds herself caught up in the superhero world of her super-sexy boss and her long time crush as they battle the evil Captain Zinger (yes, really). Will Anna find a way to save her superheroes (even with the disastrous help of the spandex-loving Carl), her sanity, her new found love, and - oh yeah - the world? Find out in Power Surge - Book 1 in the Anna Jennings Super Novel Series!


Clark Kent was a fox. Seriously. The man could go from the nerdy-chic look of a newspaper reporter to liberty blue, spandex tights and still send hearts a-flutter. Granted, saving the world and being an all-around good guy didn’t hurt his image. But seriously. The man was a fox. And really, ignoring the Michael Keaton years, Bruce Wayne was pretty foxy himself. It’s no wonder when people think of superheroes, they automatically picture tall, dark, dramatically handsome men, flying around the city, rescuing beautiful women from their eminent demises.

I’ve spent my whole life envisioning said heroes. Growing up with four older brothers meant my world practically revolved around super heroes and villains. It also meant that at any time, I had four courageous, handsome and cunning champions to save me from evil. Whether I was stuck in a tree, being bullied at school, getting felt up by Jimmy Holstrom at recess, or crying over spilled ice cream, my personal super heroes were always there to swoop in and save me.

I’m twenty-eight now and still getting caught in trees, bullied by coworkers and crying over spilled ice cream. Jimmy Holstrom moved away in seventh grade, so he isn’t an issue anymore. (And really, I’d give up donuts for a month to be felt up right now.) Decades later, my brothers still swoop in to rescue me on a near daily basis.

Yet somehow, twenty-eight years of being rescued hasn’t taught me to butt out of sticky situations. It hasn’t taught me to think twice before climbing trees or to use sarcasm sparingly.

But really, what’s my motivation? Careful people don’t have cool scars to show off. They don’t have exciting childhood stories to tell nieces and nephews. They don’t appreciate the gift of life and how quickly it can be taken away. And they certainly don’t get rescued by foxy super heroes who wear their underwear outside of their pants.




Mysterious trips out of town, a strange encounter with a naked guy and a possible werewolf attack … After a month-long hiatus from super villains, Anna Jennings' life is finally regaining some sense of normalcy. One would assume that after her latest near death experience, she'd know better than to let her guard down too quickly. But as Anna is about to learn, complacency only leads to trouble. Evidently, March is the month for nudity in the world of superheroes. In the past week alone, Anna has seen more nipples and chest hair than she's seen in her entire life, and not the good kind. Things only get stranger for Anna when her sidekick Carl is bitten by what may or may not be a werewolf. Now she has to help him prepare for the full moon, attempt to find time to spend with her sexy boy toy and avoid a plethora of random wannabe nudists, all while battling an invisible villain set out to destroy her superhero friends. Sounds easy, right? Well, no one ever said you need super powers to save the day.


I pondered that as we passed a caricature booth. A small group of elderly women surrounded one of their friends as she posed for the artist. A woman clad in lavender velour took one look at me and gasped, bringing me to the attention of the entire group.

“Goodness gracious!” she cried as she rushed over and began running my cape between her fingers. “What on earth are you wearing?”

I searched for Blake over my shoulder and found nothing but the bustling crowd. “Um … It’s a costume. I’m a performer down on the end of the Pier.”

“Dorothy, did you hear that!?” cried another woman sporting a sunhat the size of a manhole cover. “She’s a performer! Oh, honey. Won’t you put on a little show for us?” The women behind her squealed with delight, nodding and clapping furiously.

“Well …” I hedged. Lying on the fly is not my forté. “I’m not a solo performer. I’m a magician’s assistant. My partner … He’s … Well, he ate too many funnel cakes, so he’s visiting the commode.”

“Ah… Funnel cakes will do that,” agreed a tiny, wrinkly old woman in what looked like a frilly pink romper. “My Walter, God rest his soul, called them Hansel and Gretel Cakes. Whenever he’d eat one, he’d leave a trail behind him on the way home. Not of bread crumbs, of course …”

My eyes bulged in horror as the group nodded in understanding.

The lavender lady finished fiddling with my cape and shuffled around to my front, eyeing the bird logo screen printed on my chest. “What does this stand for, honey?”

I had no idea. I’d never asked Carl what it stood for. I shrugged my shoulders slightly. “I’m not totally sure. A friend made it for me.”

“Is that right? Well your friend has some serious talent! The workmanship on these stitches is wonderful! Do you have any extras I could buy off you? Perhaps something in a light purple or periwinkle?”

“I’ll need a built-in brazier for mine,” chimed a heavy-set woman in the back.

“Mabel, you’ll need a couple of built-in, reinforced hammocks to wrangle those monsters!” Snapped the sunhat lady.

“Well at least I won’t have to roll mine up like a couple of boobie burritos, you saggy old bitty! Good gravy, if you had nipple rings, they’d leave sparks on the cement everywhere you walked!”

The gaggle of grandmas immediately erupted. Sunhat lady began tucking her breasts into her trousers in preparation for their showdown. Lavender abandoned fondling my super suit to help hold back hammock boobs. I took the opportunity to slowly back away from the chaos and melt into the passing crowd.




Chicago isn't exactly a stranger to bizarre happenings. Crime sprees are a daily occurrence in the Windy City. However, over the past few weeks, not only has the crime rate skyrocketed, but assailants have gone missing. When Vance Publishing employees start acting strangely, (i.e. Crying hysterically over dead goldfish and attempting to choke someone to death with a handful of macarons) it is up to the team at VP to find out what's happening and put a stop to it. While Anna Jennings may not be a novice when it comes to bizarre episodes, she doesn't usually find herself butt-deep in whipped cream on a Monday night. As if that isn't bad enough, she has to juggle a failing relationship with her long-distance boyfriend and a sexy boss who has suddenly embraced his divorced status. Get ready for more crazy hijinks and sexy superheroes in "Power Play" - Book Three in the Anna Jennings Super Novel Series!


I stepped off the elevator onto my floor and my nostrils were immediately assaulted by the intoxicating smell of chocolate. It was all I could do to not moan inappropriately. I followed the scent across the floor, past Mae’s empty desk and into my office. There, sitting on my desk, sat a large pile of … something. Quite honestly, it looked like someone lured a buffalo into my office and allowed it to defecate on my mousepad. How something so heinous could smell so tempting is beyond me. I had no idea if I was supposed to eat it or cover it in a gallon of kitty litter.

“What smells so good and who the heck shat on your desk? Did you piss somebody else off this week?” Blake stood behind me, just outside the doorway, gaping at the pile of chocolate poo.

“Probably,” I admitted. “I can’t think of the last day I didn’t piss somebody off.”

“I dare you to touch it.”

“No way! You touch it!”

“Yoo hoo!” Mae’s voice carried over Blake’s shoulders. “Hot coffee comin’ through!”

Blake turned to let Mae through and slowly followed her into my office.

“Anna, I hope you don’t mind but I brought you another treat from my baking class.”

I accepted the mug of coffee from her and took a sip, my eyes glued to the brown pile on my desk. “What exactly did you bake, Mae? It smells delicious.”

“It’s a chocolate jelly roll, of course.” She set my customary box of granola clusters on the corner of my desk and dropped a handful of mail in my inbox.

“How does one eat a chocolate jelly roll?” I asked, daring to poke my index finger into the frosting. I touched the tip of my tongue to it, took a moment to absorb the flavors, and nodded in appreciation. It was actually quite delicious.

Mae chewed the inside of her lip as she considered her concoction. “You know, I’m not sure. Normally you’d just slice off a piece. I suppose I could go grab a ladle.”




3 Book Series


E.J. Whitmer is a young-ish Iowa native who spends her days working in marketing and design. When she is not working or writing, she likes to spend her free time cooking, crafting, attending sporting events, harassing her outrageously good-looking husband or cuddling her new son.

2017/11/15

MISTLETOE FANTASIES by Stacy Eaton

MISTLETOE FANTASIES
Pleasure Your Fantasies Series: Book 1
by Stacy Eaton

Genre: Contemporary Romance – Holiday Contains Sexual Content and Adult Language


Reba St. James would prefer to serve the drinks or play hostess to the businessmen and their guests at Pleasure Your Fantasies, the gentlemen’s club where she’s employed. Unfortunately, when she needs extra money to pay off an urgent debt, the only position that pays her enough is dancing on stage with barely anything on.

Wallie has been a body guard at the club since it opened four years ago, and over the last year he’s developed quite a crush on Ms. Reba. He might have thought he had a chance with her, except the club has a strict rule: No dating between guards and dancers.

When the attraction between Wallie and Reba reaches undeniable levels, Reba is ready to walk away from dancing altogether and try to find another way to help pay the bills, but when a final notice shows up, she’s forced to go from part-time dancing to full-time, and any chance of a relationship between them is put on hold.

Everything changes on Christmas Eve when Reba and another dancer get into a fight, and Reba is let go from the club. Will Reba lose everything, or will Reba and Wallie get more for the holidays than just their Mistletoe Fantasies?

Mistletoe Fantasies is the first book in the six book Pleasure Your Fantasies Series that spins off of The Celebration Series.


My toes tingled and I dug around in my console until I found two breath mints and shoved them into my mouth. I peered into my rearview mirror and realized that I probably looked a mess, but it was too late now.

Wallie took a few more turns, but it was only a few miles before he pulled into a neighborhood with single family homes. I wished that it was daylight so I could see them, but I did enjoy the few holiday light arrangements that I saw along the way. Wallie pulled into the driveway of a two-story house after making two more turns, and I parked beside him.

Before I got out, I took a moment to try and calm my racing heart. I could leave. I could back out of the driveway and pretend I was never here. I knew that Wallie would understand. He would get it, I knew he would.

“You want this, Reba,” I said to myself softly and, boy, did I ever want it. I grabbed my purse and pushed open my door. When I walked around Wallie’s truck, I found him approaching the steps to his front porch. The light wasn’t on, and I was both glad and disappointed. It was hard to tell much about the house other than it was a two-story and appeared to have stone on the front of it, but, in the darkness, Wallie couldn’t see how nervous I was, or vice versa.

I paused a few feet behind him. He unlocked the door but didn’t open it. He turned to me. “If you leave now, nothing will change, Reba. We can keep things the way they are, and it will be fine, but I guarantee that if you step through this door, things are going to change, so make sure you’re ready for that.”

“What’s going to change, Wallie?”

“You, me—us.” His voice was so deep that chills raced down my spine.

“There will be an us?”

I felt the heat of his stare even with the two feet between us. “The moment you step through that door, Reba, there is only an us.”

I wasn’t sure if that was the hottest thing I had ever heard or the scariest, but I did know that there was no way I was going to walk away now.

I stepped toward him, but instead of stopping in front of him, I skirted him, opened the door, and crossed the threshold, stopping in the center of the foyer. The house alarm began to beep a warning that I didn’t care to heed, and a moment later, the door closed, then five keys were depressed on his alarm pad before the beeping stopped. A muffled sound filled my ears that sounded a lot like his leather jacket hitting the floor. A second later, his hands were on my shoulders and he was turning me. I was pulling my arms from my jacket as he was yanking it from my shoulders.






Mistletoe Fantasies is a Spin off of The Celebration Series



Stacy Eaton is a USA Today Best Selling author and began her writing career in October of 2010. Stacy took an early retirement from law enforcement after over fifteen years of service in 2016, with her last three years in investigations and crime scene investigation to write full time.

Stacy resides in southeastern Pennsylvania with her husband, who works in law enforcement, and her teen daughter who is working toward her second degree black belt in Tae Kwon Do and on the choral and cheerleading squads at school. She also has a son who is currently serving in the United States Navy.

Stacy is very involved in Domestic Violence Awareness and served on the Board of Directors for her local Domestic Violence Center for three years.

Be sure to visit her website for updates and more information on her books.

Sign up for all the latest information on Stacy’s Newsletter!

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LIFE WITHOUT YOU by S.P. West

LIFE WITHOUT YOU
by S.P. West

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Once upon a time in a land not so far away, a man and a woman fell in love. They were very happy. Until one day they weren’t – their happily ever after disappeared.

This is their story.

Summer
Have you ever been in love?
The kind of love that leaves you breathless and makes you feel like you can fly? 
I have…. It was the biggest mistake of my life. I let him become my everything; my sun, moon and stars but that wasn’t enough for him.
What he did nearly destroyed me.
My husband’s betrayal taught me the hard way that once trust is gone, it can never be regained. He won’t ever be part of my life again.

Alex
If I could sum myself up in one word, just one, then personally I’d pick fool. Misguided, dumb fool.
I made a mistake.
A mistake so big that the future I had planned out with the love of my life vanished in the blink of an eye. I didn’t see it at the time. That would have been too easy, by the time I realized what I lost it was too late. It was my own fault; I can’t blame anyone else. Because of it I lost the one woman that meant everything to me.
But I’m telling you now if fate ever gives me a second chance with her……I swear I’ll never let Summer slip away from me again.




Last night Sergei and Dax had shut the café to the public, holding a surprise going away party in my honor. It was a bittersweet event with a touch of drama thrown in. Many of our regulars came as well as all the staff. I spent most of the first hour crying as I said farewell to all the people who’d become like family to me. When it came time to say goodbye to Sergei he’d held me tight for what seemed like hours and as we parted, I saw unshed tears in his eyes.

“I’ll miss you, my English rose,” he said in his strong Russian accent. “You come back. You have job,” before abruptly walking away from me. Always a man of few words. After Sergei had left Dax jumped in, crushing me to his body.

“Stay sweet cheeks, we’ll look after you,” he whispered in my ear as he hugged me.

“I can’t Dax,” I managed to croak out to the man who’d been like a brother to me.

He leaned back moving his arms to my waist; his eyes red and his handsome face puffy. “I know Lime Pie, I know.” he said sadly. “Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t try. I…. we’ll miss you.”

“Don’t...” My heart was breaking over again. I was giving up my life, my home, and my friends all because my dickhead husband, ex-husband, couldn’t keep it in his pants and had taken me for everything that I had.

“I hate him you know, Sergei and I both do. For what he did to you, for him taking you away from us. We decided that he’s banned for life, we’ve even printed up a poster with the ass-hat’s face and name on it to put in the cafe to remind all the staff. Oh, and I did the same for that Bitch.” For the first time since this whole sorry mess began, I felt myself smile. I couldn’t bring myself to speak, couldn’t communicate to him the over whelming sense of sadness that came over me at the thought of leaving my friends behind.

“And don’t forget, we’ll come visit you. You can take us to see the sights.” His voice cracked as he tried to keep his emotions under control, “I expect tea at the Ritz and a shopping trip to Harrods young woman!”

I looked at this man. This wonderful, kind and generous human being, who’d given me a job when no one else would, despite my ineptitude, who had made me laugh on a daily basis and who had shown me true friendship. No matter what life had thrown at him, he always had a smile. I realized then that I should take a leaf out of Dax’s book. I had to let go of the hate, to turn it into indifference. Otherwise, it would eat me up inside, make me bitter.





My name is S.P. West and I’ve just finished writing my debut novel, Life Without You.

It’s a contemporary romance about betrayal, heartbreak and reconciliation but ultimately it’s a story of true love.

I would love to keep you updated as I go so please feel free to keep checking back or to sign up to my blog. You will get sneak peaks of chapters, teasers and the cover! I will also be holding a competition to win an arc (but that is much further in the future!).

So a little bit about me?

I’m a mother, wife and cat owner.

I’ve taught dance, managed a bank, worked as admin, written fan fiction…basically a jack-of-all trades master of none and now I’m writing a book!


2017/11/14

CURVEBALL BABY by J.M. Maurer

CURVEBALL BABY
by J.M. Maurer

Genre: A Contemporary New Adult Romance (with Baseball, Baby & Christmas themes)


Most of Addison’s days start the same. She walks to work, brushes off the townsfolks’ disapproval, and fixes any-and-all local catastrophes. But there’s not a single resident in Willow Run who doesn’t know that’s all about to change.

For MLB pitching phenom Ben Peterson, returning to Willow Run is like stepping into another world. Back in town, he’s poised to do more than merely get his head on straight. For the last six months, his thoughts have been centered around one thing—the beautiful small-town girl who taught him there’s more to life than hurling a baseball.


ADDISON
I laugh, feeling my body warming under the sun, and decide it’s time to slip off a layer of clothing. Waddling back to the boxes, I toss my jacket to the top of one of the columns and hear Rusty shoot me an order.

“Hey, while you’re back there, grab a dozen thins.”

I snatch up what I can and, since the noodles are fragile, take some extra precautions. Twisting back toward the table, I immediately heat up even further, my body threatening to melt into an unrecognizable puddle of liquid Addison all over the sidewalk.

Gasping, I halt mid-stride. Stunned by what I’m seeing, I let Mrs. Tinley’s noodles and the scholarship money they’d provide slip though my sweaty palms. I can’t help it. I’m pinned in my spot, captivated once again by a slate-blue stare that’s just as sultry as it is unforgettable.

Staring ahead, I hear a crunching noise and can only assume it’s from the multiple bags of Mrs. Tinley’s noodles. I imagine they’ve spilled into quite a large mess at my feet, but I’m too shocked by his presence to give the noodles another thought. Noodles? Who cares about noodles? I’ve now got nothing on my mind but the tall, blue-eyed Adonis standing before me.

So much so, I feel my heart pound hard against my chest. My mouth goes slack. And a sudden tingling under my lip balm is driving me nuts. It’s all I can do to refrain from leaning in and reacquainting my lips with his. But I know better than to do such a thing, and instead, stay in my spot, thinking, Ben, is that really you?

I don’t dare close my eyes. If I do, I fear when opening them I’ll realize he’s merely an illusion. But he’s not a mirage. My head’s just fine and my eyes aren’t playing tricks on my heart. I open my mouth to say hello, like I always do when I meet someone, but when his sly grin slides clean off his face, I bite my lower lip and swallow back my greeting.

With his gaze cast down, he takes a long moment, appearing to stare almost unseeingly at my midsection. He doesn’t blink. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t even seem to be breathing.

I don’t know what he’s thinking. His expression is rather frozen. But judging by his furrowed brows, he’s most likely come to one major conclusion.






J.M. Maurer started working as a registered nurse in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit where she cared for critically ill children, transported them from outlying hospitals, and even picked up overtime hours treating patients of all ages while inside a hyperbaric chamber. She loves to write about strong characters and their struggles in life. When not writing, you can find her spending time with family and friends, exploring the outdoors, or attempting most any sport. She resides in Chicago with her husband and son. She loves to hear from readers! You can follow her writing journey at www.jmmaurer.com.

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