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FLASH ME

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FLASH ME

A Heathens Ink Novel

K.M. NEUHOLD

M/M ROMANCE

RELEASE DATE: 09.03.18

Flash Me Final

 

Blurb

Liam

I was kicked out at sixteen for being transgender, but it turned out to be one of the best things to ever happen to me. At twenty-one, I have a fantastic new family made up of my brother and a handful of wonderful friends, I own my own photography business, and I’m happier than I imagined possible. There’s just one thing missing… Okay, maybe two…

Wyatt

When I took the position volunteering as a therapist at Rainbow House, I knew I’d found my place in the world: helping teens who had been rejected by their families. What I didn’t expect was the friendship I formed with Liam or how it would grow over the years into a crush I just couldn’t shake. I’m happy to see him finally opening himself up to dating with someone he trusts like Owen. But when he comes to me and asks if I can help his boyfriend, I feel like there’s more to the request than just a few therapy sessions. The more I get to know Owen, the more I like him, too.

Owen

I’m not sure why I believe so much in fate when she’s dealt me nothing but crappy hands—a stint in prison and enough childhood horrors to fuel all my adult nightmares. But I still hold on to the idea that everything happens for a reason. What I can’t figure out is why fate would plop me naked into Liam’s bed under the pretext of helping him with a photo series for a gallery showing. Or why my stomach goes funny every time he smiles at me. Liam is too sweet to be exposed to my demons, but I don’t know how to protect him…Maybe that’s why fate gave us Wyatt.

***This is the seventh book in the Heathens Ink series. Each book in the series CAN be read as a stand-alone, but characters do re-occur so it’s more fun to read them all!

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Excerpt

“Yes, yes, yes,” he squeals as he lands in my lap.

I catch him, just barely keeping the chair from tipping over with both of us in it. He throws his arms around my neck and squeezes me tightly. I catch Owen’s eye over Liam’s shoulder and find him smiling nearly as big.

Liam pulls back from the hug and looks into my eyes. His smile is shyer now, and when his pink tongue darts out to lick his lips, my dick thickens against my thigh. My heart rate kicks into a gallop, and I tighten my grip on his hips.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, his voice so sweet I’m sure I would agree to anything he could ever think to ask. I look over his shoulder at Owen again who nods encouragingly.

“Yes,” I agree.

I expect Liam to lean in slowly, maybe continue with the theme of shy and sweet. But my permission seems to flip a switch. He takes off my glasses and takes my face between his hands, pressing his lips hard against mine. I can taste the overly sweet wine on his lips as he teases and coaxes me to part my lips.

My entire body lights up as Liam’s hot tongue slips into the depths of my mouth, eagerly licking me, tasting me. I wrap my arms tight around his slim waist and press his body harder against mine, desperate to feel all of him. I catch his whimpers in my mouth and swallow them, kissing him deeper, running my tongue along his and tempting him to give me more. I want everything Liam has to offer and then some. I want to know every inch of his body inside and out, and I want him to know mine.

My throbbing erection grinds against the firmness in the front of Liam’s jeans and sends a jolt of heat from head to toe. I want to lay him down right here on the patio and rut against him until we’re both breathless and sweaty. I want so much I’m sure I’ll go mad from it.

It’s only Owen’s quiet words that drag me back to reality. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

KM Neuhold Logo 2

I’m an author of m/m and new adult romance. I have a strong passion for writing characters with a lot of heart and soul, and a bit of humor as well.

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Ash and Cinders

Title: Ash and Cinders

Series: The Gabriel Church Tales, Book Three

Author: Rodd Clark

Publisher: NineStar Press, LLC

Release Date: September 3, 2018

Heat Level: 2 – Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 84000

Genre: Contemporary Crime, murderer, reporter, fugitive, policeman, hurt-comfort, established couples, reunited

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Synopsis

Christian Maxwell is resigned when Gabe tells him he’s leaving Seattle to protect him, until the truth sinks in, and Chris realizes he may never see Gabe again. Reacting in anger, the two part with cold hostility instead of a warm and loving embrace.

Deciding not to fight Chris’s obvious disapproval, Gabe leaves anyway, heading south in his faithful Dodge pickup.

Gabriel Church is a wanted man, and when he landed in Sonora, California, he believed it would be the first stop in his continuing journey. Road blind and far too weary to continue driving, he has no way of knowing he is about to run out of luck.

Excerpt

Ash and Cinders
Rodd Clark © 2018
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
“Heaven wouldn’t know what to make of you, anyway.”

The words stung him and came as harshly as they’d been intended. But yet he knew they were an accurate assessment of his life thus far. There was no retort that Gabe could’ve come back with; the unwieldy truth was what it was, and he faced it every day in the mirror. Chris had never resigned himself to the fact that he was leaving just to protect him. Instead of trying to explain himself, he hung his head like a shamed puppy cowering near a piss-stained rug until he said, rather meekly, “You’re right, of course; it wouldn’t.”

“All those fucked-up parallels with a God you’ve never seen, one you’ve personally never seen evidence of anyway!”

Gabriel couldn’t fight the clearly obvious disapproval thrown in his face. Chris was dead-on correct in his appraisal of him, and he’d been too tired to fight with the man. He’d simply accepted the harsh punishment like the person who knew they’d let someone down whom they adored. And it was one he’d never dreamed he would have. So he’d left anyway, telling himself it was to protect the other man, when really it was to protect himself.

Gabriel Church was a wanted man, in more ways than other fugitives who might be running from the law. He’d landed in Sonora, California, but it was just the first stop in his journey from Washington. He’d been forced to stop there after the copious miles and endless blacktop nearly made him road blind and far too weary to continue driving. However, it was only a brief respite, and it wasn’t a place he’d ever call home.

Sonora was a ridiculously small town in comparison to Seattle, but it had a particular quaintness very akin to those upper northwestern states he’d traveled through before. It was a town that had first grown from the glorious days of the California gold rush, originally settled by migrant Mexican miners who went searching for a better life for themselves and their families. Once the glittery veins were all but extracted, the town was forced to turn to the vast tree lines and a fast lumber industry was born. It sprang from the deep woods and left a multitude of sawmills as the skies became smoky dark with new trade and commerce.

But all that remained today was leftover beauty, and since no one could push a fantastic view across the dinner table to feed their family, tourism had become the only thread holding Sonora’s tenuous fabric intact. But it was indeed beautifully picturesque. Tourists flocked through the tiny community, flashing photographs from car windows and spending their out-of-town dollars in shops and restaurants, buying postcards and memorabilia before continuing their journey out of the tiny hamlet.

It had charming qualities to boast about, with its tiny red-painted churches mixed alongside homes of every architectural style and size. It sat snuggly nestled into the rolling hillside and the raw, untainted splendor of everything surrounding it. Appearing a city out of sync with the rest of the world, it made one feel everything ran a few ticks slower on the clock and gave the sense of stepping outside of time. For Gabe, it meant a safe place to make a brief rest stop and take a needed breather during his journey to nowhere in particular.

The conversations with Chris, which had been replaying in his mind, were the only distractions from the pull of the highway. But as he drove through town, he, too, became mesmerized with the humble, tiny community called Sonora. It quelled the conversations that had been playing in a continuous loop inside his brain for hours as he drove along Highway 108, commonly known as the Sonora Pass Road. Gabriel passed cars filled to capacity. Each one appeared to be vacationing families finally bound for a week of holiday fun and enjoying the route between the Sierra Nevadas and National Parks. It was an idyllic setting for camping, horseback riding, and hiking in small groups, and was an iconic vacation spot for anyone wanting to escape the dingy streets of East Los Angeles or avoid heading to one of the national parks like Yosemite or Stanislaus. However, Gabe wasn’t on vacation; he was driving with no particular fixed point on the horizon line. And he was driving alone.

Gabriel never used to mind being alone in the cab of his Dodge. He was accustomed to the loneliness and being his own company for as many years as he could recall. But that’d been before meeting Christian Maxwell. Now it reminded him of the cold isolation of a prison cell, with him in solitary.

Absentmindedly, his palm rubbed at the bulge in his side pocket where he’d shoved his new mobile phone. It hadn’t rung once since he’d left Seattle, and his fingers ached with desire to feel it vibrate through his jeans. He had told himself he wouldn’t use it until he had better news to offer, but he still wanted it to ring. He needed to hear Chris on the other end. His familiar, comforting voice; that beacon in the dark he felt trapped inside; a thing that might break apart the normal repartee that usually played in his head.

He was exhausted with it all, and every conversation the two men had ever shared seemed to drone through his head like a recorder on playback. He tore apart each word and pilfered through its meaning, as if trying to comprehend all that occurred back in Seattle. His normally inquisitive mind was working overtime, and he was edging to the obsessive and compulsive sides of his nature. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop the discussions from playing endlessly as he drove in silence.

It was maddening. He felt he needed to pull the truck off the black asphalt road and jump out so that he might be able to scream and yell to the heavens without looking like a fool to those cars passing him on the highway. He wanted to express his rage and pray his shrieking demands would be heard and somehow stop the parade of images in his head. Because they were leaving him broken and scrutinizing every detail and emotion that remained. It was nothing if not draining. Had he not looked up and seen the Sonora exit sign in his path and chosen to take it, he might have found himself doing just that.

He’d been hammered by some heavy blows of late, and losing his lover was only one of many in that series of events plaguing him. He had to question his mission with this second loss of Christian Maxwell in such a short time. Wasn’t a heavenly soldier with his conviction intact supposed to be permitted some mercy? A loving God couldn’t have created anything as wicked as him on purpose and not promised him a reward for his efforts. It felt as if God were questioning his faith like those stories of Job he’d heard from that pedophilic priest back in Tennessee. He had used the parables of the Book of Job during his sermons many times. He recalled the priest reading from the scriptures: “…and it is written that he will rise again with those whom the Lord raises up.”

For the boy of ten who seemed spellbound with the story, his words sounded like music to his ears and were instantly carved deep into his young psyche. They became the words he would carry in his head for years to follow.

Then there was the sex: the sweaty entangling of naked flesh and saliva-traced spots of warmth that Gabriel remembered so well. Those were memories best enjoyed in the tranquility of the predawn hours or the dead of night. The time he spent with Chris was his favorite retreat, his recollections of guttural sounds of unbridled pleasure and the flashes of playful antics as they knotted the sheets and reached to gain purchase over the other’s erection like it was a baton handoff in a thirty-meter dash.

Finding partners to play with had never been a challenge. He was far too sexual an animal to live life like some Jesuit priest. But just as that idle thought hit him, another memory came rolling in like a wave crashing on the shore, and he was instantly reminded of another priest, one he met in San Antonio, a man who’d become a gratifying find. He’d been a kind man, all wrapped up in black robes, like an Inuit Eskimo protecting himself from the elements. He recalled Father Kait’s shuffling gait when they’d first met and the way he extended his hand in a greeting. How the palsy born from his advanced years became even more apparent in the slightness of that gesture. Gabriel had met few people in his life that he could say had actually surprised or inspired him. But this priest had been such a soul. And Christian had become another.

He’d been an ideal depiction of a grandfatherly type, with his thinning white hair and gently wrinkled smile. Like the grandfather Gabriel had been deprived of knowing because of Bennett’s irrational hatred of Sissy’s parents and theirs equally of him. A part of the family he’d never have the good fortune to meet or get to know, though he’d secretly always wondered what it would be like to have grandparents that he could spend some time with. For children in his predicament, this became a luxury and an unresolved hurt that Little Gabe learned to never speak about.

He’d seen a purpose and vibrancy still present in the old priest’s fading blue eyes. They practically sparkled with his humble, unspoken wisdom and, not unlike a whisper, they hinted at the wealth of every riddle buried there. Gabe saw the man’s eyes as some type of calm guarantee he couldn’t fully explain. They indicated to him this was a priest who was incapable of judging another harshly, as some in the clergy have been known to do.

Maybe it was due to how much those lovely eyes had witnessed over the years. And those ears of his—surely they’d heard countless intimacies, been privy to all those closely guarded secrets from a multitude of sinners. When someone sat across from Father Kait, they knew their confessions were safe and their confidences wouldn’t be broken or shared with another stranger. It became clear if they spent time with Kait and were witness to his gentle smile, and just understood this old man wasn’t judging them but, rather, dissecting parts of the whole, and it was their heart and soul he hoped most to expose. With him, they knew from the first encounter it would all be done with the precision of a surgeon’s blade and skill. That whatever cancer they carried was about to be excised, without even knowing it existed or how malignant it might’ve been.

Gabe knew this instinctually. He could tell by the way Father Kait introduced himself. How he spoke so methodically and compassionately and without expressing a need to have one rush into the nearest confessional booth and unburden themselves of their sins as they waited for absolution. Father Kait seemed more interested in the person as an individual rather than the current troubles they were experiencing or the moral wrongdoing they believed they’d committed in their pasts. Though he never had any real inkling of the severity of Gabriel’s crimes, or what his confession might’ve meant to either of them had he been given the whole, unsettling truth.

After leaving San Antonio, Gabe thought about Father Kait more and more, wondering how the old man might be getting on, almost as if they were close friends and not just strangers who’d passed each other along their journeys.

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Meet the Author

Rodd lives in Dallas, TX and can be reached through his web presence at RoddClark.com.

If you were to ask him, he would say that enjoys M/M mysteries and suspenseful romance mixed in with his thrills. “Give me a good ole spy novel or fantasy to keep me up at night,” he might add. When he isn’t writing or reading, he claims to be the zookeeper of his menagerie of critters who call his place home. From cats to dogs to friendly raccoons, he enjoys them all.

With a dark and distinctively disturbing voice, his characters are flawed but intriguing; such as the main character of Gabriel Church in his romantic fiction series The Gabriel Church Tales, which begins with Rubble and the Wreckage.

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Tp Love

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The McNally Series, Book 1
Contemporary Romance
Date Published: September 4, 2018
Publisher: Readscape Publishing
Meet the McNallys, an Irish family who learn to move on from their individual personal tragedies to fall in love.
Eager for a fresh start, Jazz McNally throws herself into renovating her grandparents’ mansion in time for the grand opening of the McNally Bed and Breakfast. When vandals strike, she accepts help from drifter Dalton O’Brien. Dalton is willing to lend a hand, until it’s time to move on. But when danger escalates, Dalton soon realizes that protecting Jazz is a threat—to his heart.
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About the Author

 photo To Love Author Laura Scott_zpszqg8bdtv.jpg

A nurse by day and an author by night, Laura Scott has written 50 books for Harlequin. To Love is the launch book in her new family series, The McNallys releasing on Sept. 4, 2018.
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Beyond Meridian

Title: Beyond Meridian

Author: CC Bridges

Publisher: NineStar Press, LLC

Release Date: September 3, 2018

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 26900

Genre: Science Fiction, sci-fi, space, futuristic, war, slaves, space travel, pansexual

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Synopsis

Captain Rick Raine thinks he’s just picking up a passenger and some cargo when he takes on Karl as a member of his crew. He didn’t sign up for battling privateers, the United Planetary Alliance, and his own heart. But everyone has secrets in space, even a naive kid who knows more than he should.

Karl is on a mission, deep in the heart of enemy space. Sam saved him from a life of servitude and now it’s time to return the favor. For that he needs a ship and someone to fly it. Captain Raine seems like the perfect guy, a good pilot and an honest thief. But Karl doesn’t count on falling for the spacer, not when he has a mission to accomplish and the UPA’s secrets to keep.

Excerpt

Beyond Meridian
CC Bridges © 2018
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
The kid should have looked out of place in the bar. Too young for this crowd, too freshly scrubbed, narrow shoulders under a heavy jacket, with wheat blond hair that fell perfectly straight around his face instead of tangling into matted knots. Wide blue eyes regarded Raine from across the table, giving the guy a ridiculously youthful appearance for someone who seemed to be looking right through him.

Despite the fact that he should have been a target—fresh meat on Meridian, where someone that pretty would have been stamped with a pleasure-worker tattoo and set up in one of the whorehouses that spacers came to the planet for—nobody fucking bugged this kid. He’d walked through the room and not a single spacer gave him the time of day, until he plunked down across from Raine.

Everyone knew this was his table. You didn’t fucking bother Rick Raine when he sat there with a tall, cool Siennan beer in the center and a deck of old-fashioned cards flipping between his fingers.

“Are you Raine?” the kid asked.

“I don’t do business in the bar, kid. Save it for the spaceport.”

He barely blinked at Raine’s tone, ignoring the implied shove off. “Who said anything about business? Maybe I just want to have a drink.”

He liked the kid’s spirit. Raine snapped his fingers and drew one of the barmaids toward his table—their table now, he supposed. “Cleo, get this fine young man a drink.”

She turned her exotic, dark eyes and ample chest toward the fresh meat. “What’ll you have, doll?”

The kid’s lips worked for a moment, and Raine hid his grin behind his mug, glad to have gotten a reaction out of him.

“Meridian brandy,” he blurted, as if aware of Raine’s mocking. “One for each of us.”

“Whose tab, babe?” Cleo turned toward Raine.

“I got it,” the kid interrupted, plunking down a nice-sized chit. Well, now, maybe Raine might be swayed into doing business in the bar after all.

“Sure thing, sweets.” Cleo snatched up the chit and disappeared.

Raine set the beer down. “So, you came looking for Raine. Who are you, kid, and who sent you?”

He slouched down in his seat, the motion making him look smaller and even younger. “You can call me Karl,” he said, making Raine wonder what he was hiding. “Nobody sent me. Your name came up when I asked around the spaceport. I’m looking for passage.”

“I don’t take human cargo,” Raine snapped. Anyone dropping his name around the port should damn well have told Karl that.

“No, but I heard you could use some crew. I figure I could work to earn my keep.”

Karl seemed to have this all planned out. “Don’t need any crew right now. Besides, you don’t look like you know a spanner from a light drive.”

Karl winked at him. “Oh, you’d be surprised at what I know.”

Raine felt a stirring at those words, which were spoken in a low, raspy tone. If the kid only knew he was playing with fire.

Cleo showed up with their drinks, two short glasses brimming with the dark violet liquid. She dropped them on the table, winking at Raine when he tugged on her skirt. He didn’t miss Karl’s narrowed eyes at that. This was freakin’ Meridian; the kid should know he’d see worse than that. Hell, if he’d been at the spaceport, he must’ve seen worse.

“I only take on crew when I need the extra help for the cargo. I’m not shipping anything right now.” Raine picked up his glass and downed the brandy in one go, relishing the burning cold in his belly. Wasn’t the best vintage, but this wasn’t the place you went if you were picky about the brandy.

Frowning, Karl attempted to toss back his own glass and came up sputtering and coughing. He’d probably never even had Meridian brandy before.

Raine didn’t hide his laughter this time. “Kid, what the hell are you doing out here?”

“Not a kid,” he protested. “I can pay you.”

“Oh, yeah, in what? UPA credit?” He took a guess, because no way was this boy for real. At the silence, he nodded. “You just don’t scream border rat to me.”

“You don’t know a damn thing about me.”

At that snarl, Raine realized the kid had some bite to him. Well, they might be doing some kind of business, after all, just not the kind Karl had in mind. Raine liked bed partners with some teeth on ’em.

“I can pay you in Confed chits, if that’s what you want.”

“Everybody’s got to go somewhere. Plenty of people take on transfers, into the Confed and the UPA both. I don’t think that’s what you’re looking for, though.”

Karl stared into his glass, swirling the remaining purple liquid. “I need a reliable cruiser and a captain who has plenty of discretion.”

“And somehow you came up with my name?” Raine challenged.

“I’ve heard the name Raine was the standard in private cargo transport for over thirty years.” Karl looked him over, since obviously Raine wasn’t that old.

“My father,” he said, leaving it at that. Raine had taken over the family business when his daddy met the wrong end of a laser pistol, nearly ten years ago now. It had been him and his ship since Raine was seventeen. “You could say I’m coasting on his reputation. Where do you need to go, kid? Not that I’m committing to anything, you hear?”

Karl gave him a small, tight smile. Shame, Raine would like to see what a real smile would do to that baby face. “Mendhem. I need passage there and back, with possibly another passenger in tow.”

Mendhem. He might as well have said Tanvir, the goddamn capital of the Confederation. Mendhem was controlled by one of the most infamous warriors in the Confed military, General Purohit.

Raine tended to avoid the place, which was too strictly controlled for the kind of cargo he dealt with. “You’d be lucky to find anyone to take you near there.”

Karl all but crumpled in front of him. What the hell was so important?

“Look.” Karl seemed to collect himself after a moment. “Maybe we can help each other out. If I can get you cargo to transport, would you consider taking me on?”

Raine gave him one of his best smirks. “Oh, kid, I’d take you on for free.”

Karl made a face. “You know what I mean.”

“Loosen up, man. You need to find yourself a sense of humor if you’re going to end up as part of my crew.”

“That’s a yes, then?”

“That’s a yes only if you can get me cargo to transport,” Raine told him. Before he could second-guess himself, he continued. “I run a business, not a damn charity ship. When you find something, come find me in berth 52, south side of the port.”

“I will.” Karl’s words were like a promise.

Raine chased the taste of the brandy with the remains of his beer, wondering which one of them was biting off more than they could chew.

Purchase

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Meet the Author

CC Bridges is a mild-mannered librarian by day, but by night she writes about worlds of adventure and romance. When she’s not busy solving puzzles in an escape room, she can be found diving into comics or binge-watching superhero movies. She writes surrounded by books, spare computing equipment, and a fluffy dog. In 2011, she won a Rainbow Award for best gay sci-fi/futuristic novel.

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Blood Drenched Conquest

 

 

Title: Blood Drenched Conquest
Series: Ryze #3
Author: N. Isabelle Blanco
Genre: Paranormal Romance/Erotica

Cover Design: Booming Covers

Release Date: September 11, 2018
Blurb
Soleria
When a human male breaks your heart, it can feel like your life is
ending.
When an immortal god does it . . . well, I learned the
hard way that can lead to actual death.
The last few years I’ve been isolated except for my two best friends
Ismini and Evesse.
Until they both went missing.
Until I started searching for them and connected with the last thing I
expected.
A pair of white eyes.
He ruined me. All because I was stupid enough to give in.
Too weak to fight him.
His scent.
His taste.
Everything about that god possessed me. I knew he’d be the end of me. I
knew it.
I couldn’t stay away regardless . . .
And he drove me to suicide.
Now I’m back.
I’m different.
A monster I cannot recognize.
A monster thirsting for blood . . .
Ianthen
The end of the last war is a day I’ll never forget.
How could I? It’s the day my best friend prophesied I would one day
die.
I, the primal God of the Hunt, the first of his kind, dead.
Gone.
All because of a female.
I lived nearly fourteen millenia waiting.
No, running.
Until she barreled into my dream and turned everything
upside down.
I ran again.
I hurt her.
I tore out the very heart I would die for.
Because of my actions, I had to watch her die.
Now she’s back.
She’s more different than any of us could have ever predicted.
Lost to the obsession for Conquest that has awakened in her veins.
A female I’m determined to save before death finishes consuming me.

 

 

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Author Bio

N. Isabelle Blanco is the Amazon Bestselling Author of the
Allure Series, the Need Series with K.I. Lynn, and many others. At the age of
three, due to an odd fascination with studying her mother’s handwriting, she
began to read and write. By the time she’d reached kindergarten, she had an
extensive vocabulary and her obsession with words began to bleed into every
aspect of her life.
That is, until coffee came a long and took over everything
else.
Nowadays, N. spends most of her days surviving the crazy New
York rush and arguing with her characters every ten minutes or so, all in the
hopes of one day getting them under control.
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Throw the Key

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Psychological Suspense
Date Published: 10/06/18
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 “Lock the doors and windows…don’t talk to anyone…keep the kids with you.”
Jenna Bradley knows she needs to be afraid, she just doesn’t know what she should be afraid of. An evening phone call from her husband, Eric, rattles her to the core. “I’m coming to get you and the kids. We have to go away for a while.”
No explanation, just a few orders laced in panic.
Jenna can only assume that as a reporter, Eric has exposed the wrong people. It’s only a guess. The distance between them grows every day, Eric living his life, Jenna living hers. She doesn’t know what he’s been working on any more than she knows where he went that morning. If only the gunmen holding her and her children hostage believed that.
Eric has the answers Jenna seeks, but when the engine of his private plane stalls over Lake Michigan, his desperation to get home and whisk his family to safety takes a back seat to a seemingly futile struggle to survive.  
Federal inmate, Kurt McElroy has answers too, but heavy prison monitoring prevents him from sending a clear warning, not to mention getting the help he needs. The private prison he’s been contracted to is as corrupt as they come, but that corruption reaches beyond the prison walls to officials with everything to lose. 
Jenna fears it’s her family that will lose, namely their lives. The clock is ticking. The gunmen are growing restless. Can she find an escape before it’s too late?
Excerpt
Chapter One
August 5, 7:00 p.m.
My husband didn’t even greet me when I answered the phone. “I’m coming to get you and the kids.” He sounded rushed, almost panicked, and his deep voice squeaked as if puberty had returned.
My three-year-old son sat on the kitchen floor in front of me, banging on a stainless steel pot with a wooden spoon. I pulled my cell from my mouth and cupped it with my hand. “Please be quiet, Jack. Mommy is on the phone.”
He kept beating the pot, his head jerking from side to side as he belted out a made-up song. “I want to play all da-a-ay, I want to play all day…”
Cute as could be with big chocolate eyes, smooth cherubic cheeks, and dark hair the shade of his eyes. Picture perfect, actually, the kind of child on television and in magazines. But if he had been my first, I probably wouldn’t have had Emma, so quiet and poised, the exact opposite of her brother. Thank goodness. As much as I love the little guy, I never could have kept up with two of him.
I plugged a finger in my ear, paced to the French doors, pulled them open, and stepped onto the cobblestone patio off the kitchen. “Eric? Sorry, Jack is…”
“Jenna, just listen.” Prickles stung my skin, tiny pins jabbing my flesh. “We need to go away. For a while.” His words were clipped, the steadiness in his voice forced.
“What? Why? What is wrong?”
Eric paused. “I need you to pack everything we’re going to need for the next couple weeks or so. Whatever you can fit into four suitcases. No more.”
“A couple weeks? I can’t. Lucy…” Even though I quit my job as a speech pathologist a few years ago, I continued to work with Lucy a few times a week. She needed me in so many ways. I couldn’t just leave her, especially without having a chance to talk to her about it first. She’d be heartbroken, has already suffered through more than any child should know.
“I’m sorry. We have to.” He didn’t sound sorry. If anything, he sounded like the Eric I’ve come to know lately. To the point. Distracted. Disinterested. A far cry from the man I married.
I could hear my own breath huffing over the line. “Why?”
Another pause, short this time. “Lock the doors and the windows. Turn on the security system. Stay in the house and keep the kids with you. Don’t talk to anyone. Do you understand?”
Why wouldn’t he answer my question? “Eric, you have to tell me what’s going on. You can’t just…”
“I’m sorry. Really. Lock up, turn the security system on, and pack.”
“But…”
“I’m in the Lance, getting ready for take-off.”
His plane? Had we grown so far apart that I didn’t know my own husband left in an airplane that morning?
Then again, he hadn’t known where I’d gone either.
I tried to think, picture the morning, but it blurred with every other day, the goodbyes ranging from a half-hearted kiss on the cheek to the distant click of a door. I didn’t allow myself to think too far back, remember the long, warm kisses, loving embraces, and playful touches.
“I’ll be home in a couple hours. Be ready. Stay inside until I get there. Don’t even come out to the hangar.”
The hangar was so close, right across the street. “Eric…”
He hung up.
I stood on the cobblestone with the phone still pressed to my ear. My heart pulsed in my throat, constricting it, allowing only wisps of oxygen through. I stared past the patio, the potted geraniums, and the fire pit into the forest.
Lock the doors and windows…don’t talk to anyone.
A violent shudder rattled my body. I scanned the forest twice. Was someone lurking in the shelter of the trees? I didn’t know who or what to be afraid of – or why I should be afraid at all – yet I felt cold despite the sticky August air.
Eric, should’ve given me an explanation, a clue, anything.
With a silent gasp, I jerked the phone from my ear and examined it as if I expected a rabid creature to slither from beneath the screen. Maybe Eric didn’t explain because he couldn’t. Maybe he feared our phones were bugged.
The phone felt like fire in my hands, scorching my skin, driving me to toss it across the yard and get the device and whoever may have been listening as far away as possible. I didn’t do it, though, tried to calm my mind, think logically, breathe.
My cell was always with me. Except for Eric and the kids, no one could’ve done anything to it. I allowed my arm to relax at my side, the phone still in my hand. If anyone’s phone was bugged, it was Eric’s.
I checked the forest again. I didn’t see anything, just the soft shadows of evening settling over the foliage. If anyone was out there, they couldn’t be too far. The wooded land only ran so deep before butting up to the Newman’s property. It gave us enough privacy and distance, but they were close enough that I never felt alone. Until now. Miles seemed to stretch between my home and the nearest soul. I swallowed hard, looked to the ground but even the yard took on a life of its own, breathing in hushed tones.
I shot my gaze next door. Greg Callaghan, an old friend of my father’s, lived beyond a row of Arborvitaes and through a patch of mature maples. At night I could see bits of light poking through the branches, but it was still too bright out. Was he home? Could I call out if I needed him?
Don’t talk to anyone.
But why?
I stood alone on my corner lot, a row of green to my left and forested outcroppings to my right. Prime property for Chicago’s North Shore, but it suddenly felt like an island, its natives on the hunt for me.
I chewed on my lip, the deep green of the forest fading, images blurring together like a Monet. Think…
Realization pulsed through me, an electric zing through my veins.
Eric had mentioned that he was onto a major story that would give his career a boost. He bragged that it would take him from suburban reporter to the Chicago Tribune. Had he uncovered something that put him in danger? More specifically, had he uncovered something that put the kids and me in danger? 
I glanced behind me, through the French doors that led to the kitchen. I could still hear the muffled banging of wood on steel, Jack’s squeaky voice filling the void between strikes.
Jack and Emma. Why was I standing out here staring into the woods?
I strode toward the glass, catching my reflection. Just those few minutes in the humid air had managed to wilt my hair, the brown mass lifeless. I pulled the door open, stepped inside, locked the door behind me, and set my phone on the counter.
“I want to play all da-a-ay…” Jack sang at the top his lungs, accompanied by his makeshift drum. I walked over to him and squatted beside him onto the Brazilian cherry flooring, my legs weak and my hands trembling.
It didn’t matter that I knelt right in front of him, he bellowed as if he needed the volume for me to hear. The banging of the pot throbbed behind my eyes. I reached for the wooden spoon and lifted it from his chubby hand. “Okay, that’s enough for now, buddy.”
His mouth puffed into a frown, his dark hair slightly disheveled from swinging his head about. I ran my hand over it to smooth it. “But I want to play all day.” He crossed his arms.
I cleared my throat, hoping to steady my voice. “I need you to help me with something, okay?”
“Help with what, Mama?” He looked down at the pot still propped between his legs.
I slid the spoon across the floor behind me, pulled my hands together in a shaky steeple, and forced a wide smile. “We’re going to go on a trip!” I didn’t mean for my voice to slip, but it did.
Jack didn’t seem to notice. He cocked his head. “A trip?”
“Yes, a vacation. Daddy is on his way home to pick us up in his plane. We’re going to leave tonight.”
Jack smiled widely and pushed himself to his feet, kicking the pot aside. “Tonight?”
“Yep, tonight!”
He jumped up and down and clapped his hands. He tugged on my hand as if to pull me from the floor. “We tell Emma?”
My fake smile started to hurt my cheeks and the deep breaths did little to calm my heart rate. I didn’t want the kids to sense a problem. There was no point in causing them panic. “Sure.”
Jack tipped his head to the side, his deep brown eyes studying me, so warm and caring despite his young age. He inherited that compassionate gaze from Eric. I could only hope that it wouldn’t fade from my son like it had my husband.
Jack’s smile straightened. “Mama sad?”
I blinked. My eyes stung and a tear slipped onto my cheek. I hadn’t even noticed it there, had been too busy avoiding hyperventilation. I squeezed Jack. “Of course not. We’re going on a trip!”
Jack smiled and jumped. “Tell Emma!”
I got up off the floor. “Yes, let’s go tell Emma. I just have to check a few things first.” I picked up the pot and spoon, absently setting them on the counter beside a vase full of yellow roses. The kind of flowers Eric used to bring me. The flowers I now bought myself.
I allowed myself a precious second to take in the cheerful petals, relish in the peace of the sight. Yellow roses had been my favorite as far back as I could remember, symbolizing everything beautiful and right about the world. That’s how I saw them, what the brilliant petals and deep perfume aroma meant to me.
It also meant something else to me, something entirely opposite of peace. Sadness. Loss. Grief. Yellow roses had been mom’s favorite, too.
“I could really use you now, Mom,” I muttered under my breath. How I longed for her calm manner, comforting smile, and encouraging words.
But all I had right then was my three-year-old, his precious face staring up at me, trusting me to take care of him, keep him safe. I held my hand out to him. “Come with me.”
Jack grabbed on tightly and toddled beside me in more of a dance than a walk. “I’m going on a tri-i-ip. I’m going on a trip.” His voice boomed as loudly as before.
I moved as quickly as I could with Jack bopping beside me. I checked the window over the kitchen sink. Locked. I stepped past the cherry cabinets to the sliding patio door at the other end of the kitchen. Not locked. I flipped the lock, tested it, and made my way to the family room, past a family portrait taken just after Emma’s birth. Eric had insisted on that photo. He’d been so excited to have a family started and wanted the moment preserved.
I steadied my hands to flip the lock on the family room window, Jack’s song still bouncing between the walls, piercing my temples. I suspected a story at the root of Eric’s call, but I wasn’t sure if he told me what he’d been working on. He could’ve shared every detail and I would’ve simply nodded, my eyes not meeting his, too many other things rushing through my mind. He brought it on himself when he didn’t put his family first. He said I didn’t get it, but it was Eric who would never understand.
Jack drifted from my side, pulling my arm as we approached the living room window. His song stopped as he looked from the television to the couch. I tugged him, hoping the motion would be enough to get his focus back.
I checked the latches on the windows, and moved toward the dining room. With a jerk, Jack pulled his hand from mine, his bare feet pattering over the carpeting, carrying him back to the window. “Jack…come on.” I walked over to him, reached for his hand. “We have to pack.”
He pressed his nose against the window, his finger pointing. “I want my ball.”
I looked out the window. On the opposite side of the sidewalk, Jack’s large red ball sat beneath the branch of a bush.
“Not now. We have to hurry.”
He wiggled away from me, his feet stomping, cheeks reddening. “I want it!”
I didn’t have time for a tantrum. Lock the doors and windows. Turn on the security system. My heart pulsed with urgency. “Daddy is going to be here soon. We have to pack your things.”
“I wanna pack my ball!”
“It won’t fit in your suitcase, but if you’re good, maybe we can grab it on the way out.” I reached for Jack, but he squirmed away and ran toward the foyer. “Jack!” I called, taking off after him. My heart beat faster, harder. I didn’t know what lurked around each corner, yet alone beyond the doors.
At the front door, Jack twisted the knob with both hands. I scooped him up and propped him on my hip, despite his kicking feet and blood curdling shriek. “Do you want to go on the trip?” My words rattled as they escaped my throat.
Jack nodded back at me, his arms crossed, eyebrows knit. Another expression of Eric’s, this one much too recently familiar.
“Then you need to stay with me. Do you understand?”
He surrendered with a grumpy nod.
I bounced him slightly. “Okay, good. Let’s finish up down here so we can go tell Emma.”
I backtracked to the library and then made my way through the dining room, the television room, back to the foyer… Still three more rooms to go, and it was only the first floor. I loved this big house. It had been a second home to my dad before he signed it over to us because of lack of use. I loved it so much that I kept it over his mansion after he died. Suddenly it seemed too big, as if there was no way I’d make it to every room in time.
But in time for what?
I moved faster, hefting Jack higher on my hip as I headed for the staircase. He started singing again, his mouth much too close to my ear. Song or no song, I was not going to set him down again. I grasped the banister and headed up the stairs. My feet moved in a labored jog, my memory attempting the same. What had Eric been working on?
The danger could be over something else, though. It didn’t have to be a story. My pace slowed, my legs heavy, rubbery. Could Eric have been involved in… What? Eric was as straight-laced as me, maybe more. But he had been gone a lot lately. I wouldn’t have known where he was. I didn’t even know he’d left in his plane this morning.
Thoughts buzzed through my mind like a swarm of bees in a shaken hive. I thought of an angered mistress’ spouse, a vengeful reader who thought Eric portrayed them in bad light, even possible involvement in a drug ring.
I continued up the stairs, Jack’s feet bouncing against my thigh, his weight burning my arms. Nothing criminal fit Eric, but I couldn’t be so sure he wasn’t having an affair. The thought made me cringe, betrayal, loss, and even guilt colliding in my heart. It wasn’t the first time it crossed my mind.
I bit my lip, didn’t want to think about it. I doubted it had anything to do with the danger we faced, anyhow. That was what I needed answers to.
I paused and shifted Jack to my other hip.  It had to be a story and it angered me to even think about it. Eric didn’t need to work. We had the inheritance from my high-profile, defense attorney father to live off of. He could’ve spent his days doing the things he loved, actually living like I tried to do. Instead he insisted on working.
“I need to make my own way, Jen.”
Whatever.
I understood the need to do something worthwhile. I did that too, continued as a speech pathologist in a very part time, volunteer capacity. I had satisfaction and freedom, a balanced life that Eric was suddenly jerking me away from as if I had no responsibilities at all. Lucy needed me. I couldn’t just disappear.
I really needed to focus, get up the stairs.
“I’m going on a tri-i-ip.”
At the top of the stairs, I gently turned Jack’s face to mine and put my finger to my lips. “Shh, you’re going to ruin the surprise for Emma.”
Jack threw his hand over his mouth and nodded dramatically, his eyes wide.
I rounded the balcony and headed to the master bedroom. I’d finish locking the windows upstairs before I went to Emma’s room. At seven-years-old, my examination of the house would cause her to suspect something that Jack wouldn’t. The French doors in my bedroom leading to a small balcony had been left unlocked, so I flipped the lock into place.
I moved quickly through each bedroom, but in the guest room I stopped so suddenly it caused Jack to tense. The window hung all the way open. I know I hadn’t opened it. The air conditioning had been on for the past week and there was no way I’d have given the excessive humidity an inlet. Jack couldn’t have opened it. The window was over the bed. He would’ve had to have climbed onto it to reach the window and the comforter sat undisturbed. Emma couldn’t reach either.
I glanced over my shoulder, shifted my eyes fast enough to make me dizzy. Had someone slipped into the house?
Jack started singing again, sending my heart into my throat. I held my free hand to my chest. “Jack, the surprise,” I reminded him, once again raising my finger to my lips.
“Oops!” He slapped his hand over his mouth.
I stepped closer to the bed, hefting Jack higher on my hip as I examined the cream colored carpeting and nightstand near the window. Nothing seemed out of place and the carpet still looked freshly vacuumed. I squinted, inspecting the window. The screen was locked in place. I reached up, slapped the window shut and secured the latch. No one could’ve come in. If they had, I’d at least have seen a footprint. Maybe Eric had opened it before I last vacuumed and I didn’t notice.
The logic did nothing to calm me.
I stepped into the hallway and made my way to Emma’s room, wishing my hands would steady before I got to her. Surely, she’d notice.
I tapped on Emma’s bedroom door and then slowly pushed it open. She rested against a pillow on her bed, her fingers sliding over a tablet. Princess, the white Persian kitten we’d given her for her birthday, snuggled on her lap. Emma looked at me as we stepped inside.
I set Jack down and he ran over to her and jumped on the bed. “Emma, we’re going on a trip! Daddy’s coming to pick us up right now!” Startled, Princess hissed and then jumped to the floor.
Emma started to reach for the cat, but turned to me, her smile wide and eyes shining. “Really, Mom?”
I tried to act excited and hoped the red had faded from my eyes. “Yes, really!”
Emma sat up straight and held her hands together, her shoulder-length blonde hair bobbing. “Where are we going?”
Good question. Just play the game, Jenna. “I have no idea. Daddy said it was a surprise!”
Emma squealed. “Maybe Disney World?” She’d wanted to return to the happiest place on earth since we left there two years earlier. Jack would have no memory of the trip, having been just a year old and spending the week in a stroller. We’d planned to return there someday, but I doubted Eric was whisking us off to any such place now. By the way he sounded on the phone, I pictured a secret hideaway in the middle of nowhere.
I cocked my head. “Well, I don’t know about that. Wherever it is, I’m sure we’ll have fun.”
“Can Princess come?”
Another good question. If I couldn’t talk to anyone, how could I arrange for someone to take care of the cat? We couldn’t just leave her here for two weeks. I nodded to Emma. “I don’t see why not.” Eric wouldn’t be pleased, but I didn’t care.
“Yay!” Emma slipped from her bed to the floor, straightened her pink flowered t-shirt, and gingerly limped toward the kitten. “Did you hear that, Princess? We’re going on a trip and you get to come, too!” It triggered another round of song from Jack.
“Okay, Jack. Enough. We know.”
He smirked at me.
Emma ambled toward me, dragging her left leg. Her hip always bothered her most after she’d been still for a while. So many tests and Irritable Hip was the only diagnosis the doctors could come up with. Nothing seemed to be wrong with her. They said she’d outgrow it. I hoped it would happen soon. She’d been dealing with it for five years now.
“Okay,” I said, holding my hands up to get their attention. “I need both of you to listen carefully. Daddy is planning on being here in just a couple hours. We need to pack fast.”
Jack ran for the door. “Where are you going, buddy?”
“To pack my stuff.”
Keep the kids with you.
I waved my hand, motioning for him to come back. “Let’s make this fun. Why don’t we take turns helping each other pack?”
“I wanna go first!” Jack squealed.
I glanced at Emma. She rolled her eyes, more hazel than brown like mine. “Just let him, Mom.” She leaned into me, held her hand next to her mouth as she whispered, “Maybe then he’ll shut up.”
I nodded and winked at her. “Okay, Jack gets to go first.” I still needed the luggage from the basement storage room. I also had to flip on the security system from the panel in the master bedroom, but I couldn’t do that until I knew that everything was locked in the basement. I should’ve thought to check that before coming up here.
“Before we can help Jack pack, we need to go downstairs to get our suitcases. Why don’t you both come help me.” I turned to Emma and took a glimpse at her leg. She might not be ready for a trip down the stairs.
I glanced to the window and then back to my daughter. “Do you think your hip is okay or should we wait a minute?”
Emma walked back and forth across her room a few times. “I’m okay.”
“You must have been up recently?” She never moved quickly this soon. It could take up to an hour before she felt capable of taking the stairs.
Emma nodded, squeezing Princess in her arms. She followed behind me with Jack marching behind both of us. I moved slowly in case Emma had problems. She gripped the railing, taking each step slowly, favoring her hip while hugging Princess to her chest.
I paused. I could’ve left her in her room, let her walk it off for a bit while I checked the basement. Jack could have stayed with her, too. I’d be able to move faster on my own, make sure the house was as secure as I could make it. We weren’t too far down to turn back.
But, I thought of the open guest bedroom window. It was better that they stayed with me. Just in case.
I moved slowly down the stairs, allowing Emma time to recover after each step. We made our way to the main floor and then down a second flight of stairs to the finished basement. We passed through the recreation room, past the air hockey table, and to the storage room. I flipped the light and quickly retrieved our bags.
Jack took his own suitcase, and Emma reached for hers with her free hand. Princess dangled from her other arm, seemingly oblivious to her position. I closed the door to the storage room, both kids behind me. “I just need to check the locks down here. Gotta make sure everything is locked up tight before we leave.”
When I felt confident that every lock was latched, we made our way back up to Jack’s room. “Okay, Jack, pick out your favorite clothes. As many as you can fit into your bag.”
I paused, looking at my kids. The security system still had to be turned on, but I couldn’t let Emma see that. She’d know something wasn’t right. I normally only turned it on before I went to bed or when we left the house, if I remembered to turn it on at all.
There was a panel in my bedroom at the other end of the hallway. I’d be fast. I’d been through the whole house and no one was here. “I just have to check on something, okay?”
Jack didn’t answer. He scrambled to his dresser, tossing aside different shirts in search of his favorites, his song beginning again.
Emma plugged her ears. “Mom, can you tell him to stop?” She dropped onto the bed with her kitten.
“Jack,” I held a finger over my lips. “Let’s do this quietly, okay?”
“Okay,” he whispered loudly. In the same loud whisper, he resumed singing.
Emma rolled her eyes. At least it was a little less annoying. I stepped across the hall toward my bedroom. I’d move fast. I knew I had to. Despite my rush, I welcomed the break from the kids, the moment to stop my fake smile and excited words.
As I stepped into my room, the anxiety bled from me. My heart pounded as if I’d just run a marathon and my breathing returned to quick gasps. My arms hurt from my efforts to keep them from shaking in front of the kids so for the moment, I let them go, watched them tremble at my sides.
That moment was all I would have. I stepped to the wall beside my closet, searched the security panel, selected the right setting, and punched in the code. Now I just had to keep Jack and Emma away from the windows and doors. Easier said than done, especially without scaring them.
Despite the four windows in my bedroom, it began to darken in the eerie orange sunset. An amber glow highlighted the down comforter on my bed. Just that morning, I’d woken beneath it with Eric by my side, each of us in a hurry to get away from the other. At least, I assumed he couldn’t wait to get away from me. If that wasn’t the case, whoever called him at the crack of dawn must have convinced him otherwise.
It took little to separate us, so unlike when we first met in a creative writing course at Northwestern. Back then, we looked for every excuse to spend our free time together.
“Do you have some time to help me with a stanza tonight?” I’d ask him, really just wanting to be with him, but also enjoying the inspiration for my poetry.
He never declined and it wasn’t like I had to ask often. Eric usually beat me to it. “Coffee tonight? My plot is weak and it would really help to bounce it off you.”
We fell for each other fast and hard, each of us no longer needing an excuse to spend time with the other. Now, it felt as if nothing could keep us together. I looked away from the bed. It was time to get back to the kids and play calm again.
I paused. Silence. Jack was never quiet for long.
The next sound I heard was my heart pulsing in my ears.
I sprang for the door to get to my kids, but stopped with a start.
A rumble.
And then a shrilling scream. “Mama!”
Jack.
About the Author

 photo IMG_466003_zpsdww50svc.jpg

Christine Barfknecht has a passion or weaving the darkest bits of the human psyche into page-turning fiction. She is the author of Apple of My Eye and the upcoming The Man I Knew. She lives in rural Wisconsin with her husband, children, and pets.
Contact Links
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Cover Reveal, Uncategorized

Specter

 

 

Title: Specter

Series: Circuit #1

Author: Lacey Dailey
Genre: New Adult Romance

Cover Design: T.L. Shimmons

Release Date: October 3, 2018

 

Blurb
Two years ago, I joined an organization that was so top secret not even
the FBI could locate us.
As a hacker, I teetered on the edge of right and wrong every single day,
breaking the law to make the world around me a better place.
I knew how dangerous my work at Circuit was. I knew I could get caught
one day and wind up behind bars for the rest of my life.
I didn’t care.
And then the packages started to show up on my doorstep. One after
another. Never the same gift twice. Never the same day.
I warned my team, tried to get them to prepare for a takedown. They
didn’t seem as concerned as I was to learn my identity as Specter had been
compromised.
I prepared for everything. 
And then Sage Maddison appeared with one of the packages, snow-white hair
and eyes filled with fear.
I was not prepared for her.

 

Pre-order Links
99c pre-order only price!
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Author Bio
The best place to find Lacey is with her nose in a book.
She’s a sucker for a good love story and a happy ending that has her swooning.
When she’s not obsessing over giving her own characters a happy ending, you can
find her in the dance studio embowering young dancers and giving out tons of
stickers. Thanks to her mother’s pizzeria, Lacey can make a delicious pizza.



When she’s not putting on her dance shoes or inhaling a
slice of pizza, she’s in front of her computer binge watching romantic comedies
and penning stories with love so powerful, it’ll last a lifetime. As a recent
graduate of Central Michigan University, Lacey intends to keep inspiring people
through dance and lots and lots of words. She currently lives in Central
Michigan surrounded by her family and unpredictable weather.

Author Links

 

Cover Reveal, Uncategorized

Unleashed

 

 

Title: Unleashed
Series: Devil’s Reach #3

Author: J.L. Drake

Publisher: Limitless Publishing LLC

Genre: MC Romance

Cover Design: Deranged Doctor Designs

Photo: Lane Dorsey

Model: Josh Mario John

Release Date: October 30, 2018

 

Blurb

 

Trigger
Tess was
under the Devil’s watch
while I
suffered behind bars with my demons…
The ace in
my pocket brings power,
and the
temptation to flip overwhelms me.
I’m playing
chicken with the reaper, and it’s only feeding his thirst.
The smell
of blood is a drug. It fuels me. Consumes me.
I am lost.
Tess
The Devil stole
me, but I refuse to belong to someone else.
I’m a
fighter.
I will do
whatever it takes to get back to my family.
Treachery
and betrayal surround us.
The only
way out is to turn the greatest loss
into the
greatest victory.

 

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AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Also Available

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited

Author Bio

Bestselling author J. L. Drake was born and raised in Nova
Scotia, Canada, later moving to Southern California where she lives with her
husband and two children.
When she’s not writing, she loves to spend time with her
family, travelling or just enjoying a night at home. One thing you might notice
in her books is her love for the four seasons. Growing up on the east coast of
Canada the change in the seasons is in her blood and is often mentioned in her
writing.
An avid reader of James Patterson, J.L. Drake has often
found herself inspired by his many stories of mystery and intrigue.



She hopes you will enjoy her stories as much as she has
enjoyed writing them.

Author Links

 

Coming Soon, Uncategorized

Wrecked For You

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Releasing September 10th… GET READY!

Wrecked For You
by Kristin Mayer

My life was set.

In five months I would be engaged to a man I didn’t love.

In fifteen months I would marry someone who didn’t love me.

It was a carefully calculated script thought out by those who had the most to gain. The same people who thought happiness came from money.

Everything was going according to plan until I met Hayden Foster. Now, I have to find a way to escape this life—my prison.

🔹Read book 1, Intoxicated by You (standalone): https://amzn.to/2OPmAtM

Add to your TBR today! http://bit.ly/WreckedForYouTBR

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TEASER #1 REVEAL
Teaser #1
MEET THE AUTHOR:
Kristin tries to live life to the fullest during every moment. She loves to travel, meet new people, and mark items off of her bucket list.
She loves to hear from her readers by email at kristinmayerwrites@gmail.com, on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/AuthorKristinMayer/, on Twitter @author_Kristin, and on Instagram at kristin.mayer.

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