Book Title: Unexpected Eden
Author: Rhenna Morgan
Genre: Contemporary Fantasy Romance
Release Date: December 2014
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

Paradise, love, power…and a prophecy with a price.

Most people believe Eden no longer exists. Lexi Merrill’s about to learn they’re wrong. A hard-working bartender with a self-sufficient backbone and a wary nature, she knows pickup lines like a second language. So, when Eryx Shantos barges into her world with too-smooth words and a body to back it up, she locks up her libido and vows to keep her distance.

Eryx has other ideas. As king of the Myren race, Eryx is duty-bound to enforce the laws preventing exposure of their existence to humans. Yet The Fates have led him through his dreams to Lexi, a temptation he doesn’t want to resist. The question—is she Myren, or human which makes her forbidden fruit?

When Eryx’s nemesis tags Lexi as his next target, Eryx insists on taking her home where he can keep her safe. Lexi had no idea “home” would mean the one-and-only land of creation…or that she’d trigger a prophecy that could doom her newfound race.

Author’s Note: I thought since Unexpected Eden is a fantasy romance based in current times, I’d pick an excerpt from the book that highlights one of Lexi’s favorite benefits of being Myren—flying.

In this scene, Lexi’s fresh out of her awakening and about to learn the mechanics behind getting airborne—a pretty big deal since she’s dreamt of doing just that for years.

“So are you ready to give flying a go?” Eryx asked.

Lexi glanced at the landscape behind her. “In front of everyone?”

Eryx edged closer, but didn’t crowd. He stroked her cheekbone. “They’re to keep you safe. Until we find Maxis, we need them.”

She wrinkled her nose and scowled. “Am I going to flop on my face?”

“Tell her about your first try.” Ludan smirked and crossed his arms.

“Can it.” Eryx said, but kept his focus on Lexi. “Picture it in your mind and let the energy do the rest.”

She nodded and sucked in a breath.

He stepped back.

Her eyelids fluttered shut and her hands fisted at her sides. The soft drone of nature hummed and wind swirled between them.

He held his breath, anxiety wrenching the muscles along his forearms.

“Yeah, not working.” Her shoulders slumped and she ducked her chin.

“At least you’re not jumping off of rocks or tall ledges,” Ludan said.

Eryx glared at Ludan and stepped between them. “You’re not helping.”

Lexi sidestepped and asked Ludan, “Who did that?”

Ludan didn’t respond, but the way Lexi’s lips spread into a sly smile told him Ludan had pointed at him.

Interfering family and friends. He couldn’t wait until Ludan found someone he gave a shit about impressing. Payback would be a bitch. He turned Lexi away from his somo. “You need to relax. If you tense up it gets harder.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one learning with a bunch of strangers watching.”

“Forget about them.” He cupped her shoulders and lowered his voice. “Close your eyes and think about your dreams. Remember how it felt to fly.”

The wind around them stirred, nothing too strong, but more than what Mother Nature generated on her own and crackling with untrained energy.

He eased back. “Just like that. Remember the feelings. How you took off. How you turned. What the wind felt like on your skin.”

Lexi relaxed her head, faced aimed at the sky with her eyes still closed. Peaceful looking with the barest smile on her lips.

He lifted off the ground and hovered a few stories above her. Pale silver shimmers danced in a fine halo around her head and shoulders, power ready for release. “Now open your eyes and come with me.”

Her chest lifted on a slow, deep breath and she opened her eyes. For a split second, her gaze clouded, then sharpened. She took two steps forward and shot into the sky. Overshooting his position, she squeaked and began to fall.

“Whoa!” Eryx snatched and steadied her against him. “You have to keep thinking. Autopilot doesn’t kick in right away. It’s like driving a car. When you’ve been doing it for years, you don’t even think about it. But when you first start, it’s all you can think about.”

She laughed, not the least bit concerned she’d nearly tumbled to the Earth. “I did it.” She braced her hands on his chest, the smile on her face enough to grip his heart and lock on tight. “I really did it.”

Her warm breath fanned against his face. His thoughts scrambled and a raw, achy need pushed to the surface.

Her mouth softened and she rubbed her hand, slow against his heart. “You okay?”

Reason batted at the back of his head, shrieking to get back in the game. Now wasn’t the time or place for selfish impulse. “I’m fine.”

She lifted an eyebrow.

“I like seeing you smile.” It was only a sliver of the truth, a speck of the impact she had on his heart.

Her face glowed, the tips of her cheeks a pale pink. She glanced at Ludan, still on the ground, but poised for action. “Can we do it again?”

“That’s what we’re here for.” What he really wanted was to cart her home and practice at something much more carnal. He faced her forward. “Ludan will cover from below. I’ll stay close.”

She shot from his arms without a beat of hesitation. With every minute her movements smoothed. Her confidence radiated against his senses hot and heavy, slipping into its Myren nature as easy as a river found its course.

If she knew the type of relationship he craved from her, would she adjust to the idea of him as easily? He shoved the idea away before it could take root and tightened his distance to Lexi. He should be focused on her training, not postulating relationship suicide.

Every task he gave her she tackled, her enthusiasm and tenacity unhindered by the realm she’d left behind. And it was rubbing off. Not just on him, but Ludan and Ramsay too if the awe-filled commentary via link was any indication. Most people balked when it came to learning to land, but Lexi? She laughed and plowed toward it like she did everything else.

Her latest approach was faster than previous landings, arms high and opened for balance.

Eryx balanced on the balls of his feet, ready to catch her if she faltered.

Her energy sputtered.

He darted forward and swept her into his arms just as her knees buckled. “I let you go too long.” His voice was gruff, the angry beat of his heart and the fact that his stomach was lodged in his throat making a lighthearted tone impossible.

Lexi draped her arms around his neck. “Hardly.” A contented sigh hummed past her lips and her head relaxed against his shoulder. “But I am tired.”

Eryx lowered her to the ground, but kept an arm around her waist. “That’s burnout. Just like you had too much before, now you’re running low. You need food and rest. Once you’ve acclimated, the extremes won’t be so great.”

Stomach rumbling in agreement, she pressed a hand against her belly. “I love it.” Huffing, she leaned over and rested her hands on her knees, and looked up at him. Her eyes twinkled and she smiled wide enough to show perfect white teeth. “For the first time in my life, I feel right. I think I could handle just about anything you throw at me today.”

Could you handle the idea of being my mate? The thought leapt up along with a growl he barely kept in check.

I know, I know! A crummy time to cut things short on you, but I promise what happens next is…well…delicious. 🙂

I hope you’ll come join Eryx and Lexi on their adventures and explore more of their wonderful world.

See you in paradise!

Rhenna

Rhenna Morgan writes for the same reason she reads—to escape reality.

Yes, her life rocks—two beautiful little girls, a great husband, a steady job, and the kind of friends that would take you out back if you hurt her. But, like most women, she’s got obligations stacked tight from dusk to dawn. So, when the world gets her down, she slips into something…less realistic.

Romance is a must. So is a steamy romp (or four). Nothing thrills her more than the fantasy of new, exciting worlds, strong, intuitive men, and the sigh of, “Oh if only that could happen to me.”

So, if you’re picking up one of her books, expect portals into alternate realms and men who’ll fight to keep the women they want. Romantic escape for the women who need it.

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Book Title: Lost Wisher ~ A Troublemaker Novel
Author: Kelly Gendron
Genre: Erotic Contemporary Romance
Release Date: April 7, 2015
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

He’s ruthless. She’s relentless.
Together, they are boundless.

Fallon O’Conner is ruthless…
Each day comes and goes without meaning
He eats, sleeps, and waits
The time is nearing to confront his wife’s killer
And nothing will stop Fallon from getting his revenge
Then, Katie Rustle comes crashing into his forsaken life…

Katie Rustle is relentless…
Her boss needs something
Fallon O’Conner has it
And Katie is just the person to get it
She’s no stranger to bad-tempered, cruel, heartless men
A man corrupted by the loss of a loved one raised her

Kelly is the author of the TroubleMaker series, a stand-alone contemporary romance series, and she has a few romantic suspense novels out there too.

In a quiet suburb, somewhere between Buffalo and Niagara Falls is where you’ll find Kelly. When she’s not writing, she’s out meeting new people while representing a group of reputable nursing facilities in the WNY area.

Kelly writes steamy, blush producing romance novels. Her motto: “Bad boys, give ’em a little time and experience, and they will evolve into misbehaving men!”

Kelly loves to hear from her readers! Visit her at her Blog, Twitter, Pinterest, or Facebook Page.

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Book Title: Resist Me (McCoy Raven Brothers, 1)
Author: A.O. Peart
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Release Date: August 2014
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

Book Title: Reclaim Me (McCoy Raven Brothers, 2)
Author: A.O. Peart
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Release Date: December 2014

Resist Me – Standalone Book One in the McCoy Raven Brothers series

One fateful morning changes everything.

Lisbeth, the lone spectator of a shocking murder, believes the FBI witness protection program may be the only way for her to survive. But when a powerful explosion reduces the safe house to ashes, killing all of the FBI agents on duty, will she turn to a perfect stranger for help?

Ethan, a former-Marine-turned-firefighter, has never really cared for any woman. He lives his life to the fullest, enjoying the bad boy stigma and cultivating a particular taste for dominant sex. Girls come and go, allowed to stay only long enough to satisfy Ethan’s wild appetite.

One morning at dawn, Ethan’s fire brigade is called to a fatal house explosion that levels the structure. When he pries open a trap door to the hidden panic room located under the house, he finds a gorgeous, though disheveled brunette.

Lisbeth instantly turns Ethan’s world upside down, and he’s overcome by the burning desire to protect her, no matter the consequences.

Reclaim Me – Standalone Book Two in the McCoy Raven Brothers series

When the past comes charging back, the choice is never easy.

Abused as a child, Willow Conrad has managed to develop compassion for others early in life. She believes there is some good in every person, even in the “lost souls”. But when Seth, her boyfriend, loses his temper one last time, she is left badly beaten and broken inside.

Jack McCoy has finally grown up. He used to engage in street brawls to release his anger and reassure himself of his own worth. Serving in the Marine Corps and then becoming a firefighter has put his life back on track.

When Jack’s friend asks him to help Willow, he doesn’t hesitate, despite a reckless predicament he narrowly escaped that very evening. But when he stands face-to-face with Willow, he knows his past is back to haunt him.

Will they take the second chance and let not-so-forgotten feelings resurface and blossom, moving past what drove them apart before? Or will Jack relapse into his destructive ways and lose Willow forever?

Resist Me

I don’t know how long I stood like this, but when I looked around, Ethan was sitting on the log a few feet away, watching me with the tiniest smile on his lips. Did he understand what I was feeling? And for a flitting moment, I believed that we actually gazed into each other’s souls.

He slowly stood up, his eyes locked with mine. Taking a few slow steps, he came very close to me. There was something predatory in his stride, but that didn’t frighten me. Instead, it made me long for his touch. I didn’t move. Ethan’s hands gently ran over my arms. His smile disappeared, and his handsome, masculine features rearranged into an intense, possessive look.

This alone—his expression and his caress—left me breathless, my heart pumping. I froze in anticipation. My lips parted. His right hand came to the back of my neck. His fingers wrapped in my hair, gently tugging my head back until my face upturned toward his. His other hand pressed on the small of my back, bringing our bodies dangerously close.

He kissed me, and I truly welcomed that kiss. No, I actually embraced it.

At first, it was tender, as if he wasn’t sure how I would respond. When I didn’t pull back, his lips skillfully explored mine. His tongue darted from between them, teasing me, testing my reaction. I parted my lips and let him in. He took my mouth with such hunger as if he wanted to kiss me forever.

His sharp intake of breath sent a wave of hot desire through me. I’ve never been kissed like this—so tenderly but intensely and adeptly at the same time. He tasted of mint toothpaste and smelled of a delicious mixture of soap, something musky, and something very male.

I moaned into his mouth. He inhaled again, and his tongue licked deep inside my mouth, sliding over mine, possessing me. This was the sweetest torment I’ve ever experienced. I was lost in this kiss; I was lost in this moment. The feel of serenity and peace I felt just seconds earlier was quickly replaced by sexual tension; by pure, shameless desire.

Ethan pulled away, panting slightly, his expression laced with longing and pain. It sobered me in an instant, and I stepped away from him. I hung my head, taking deep, calming breaths. This wasn’t the way. This shouldn’t have happened.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should’ve never done that. It won’t happen again.”

I looked at him. “It’s not entirely your fault. I wasn’t exactly fighting you off.”

He clenched his jaw and walked away. I touched my lips, swollen from his amazingly devouring mouth. There was no doubt in my mind that I wanted him, and that he wanted me too.

Oh, that immediately complicated my situation… our situation. Why did I let myself get lost in him? How could I forget the reason I was here with Ethan? Stupid, stupid, stupid me. I was mortified and mad with myself. Now what? Staying with Ethan in the cabin was going to be, mildly speaking, awkward.

Reclaim Me

“Shhh. Go and stand on the stairs right below the landing.”

Without protest, she did exactly as she was told. Positioned to the left of the door, I waited, for more than one minute, keeping my body motionless but ready to spring, if necessary. I sensed Willow’s uneasiness. She had no idea what was going on or what to expect, based on my weird reaction. That must’ve been very confusing for her, but I couldn’t explain now.

And then it happened as I predicted—the apartment door opened just a notch. My core muscles hardened and I kept as far to my left of the door as the adjacent wall allowed. That way, whoever was on the other side would see the area to my right—and their left—first, which gave me a couple of seconds’ advantage before they could notice me.

With my left arm in front of me for protection and my right arm bent, drawn back for more impact and my fist ready, I was in the most optimal position to attack if necessary. But I couldn’t make any move before I knew for sure that the person on the other side of the door wasn’t Rita.

The door creaked a little and opened wider, revealing a stocky, middle-aged guy in a dark hoodie. I stepped in front of him and, in one practiced motion, drew my right arm back farther, clenched my fist, and delivered a powerful upper cut. That should’ve caught him square in the jaw, but he was fast and blocked me with his forearm then countered with a precise punch toward my torso.

Willow screamed. I blocked the punch, twisting at the hips to avoid most of the impact. That in turn drew my assailant forward, throwing him off balance. I took advantage of his momentary unsteadiness and rammed into him with my shoulder, using my body weight to its full advantage. I had at least thirty pounds on him, despite his stocky build, since he stood no more than five foot six.

My shoulder connected with his ear, and I heard him grunt in pain. While he staggered backward, I had a chance to regain my own balance and adjust my stance. He moved with good speed, and by the time I was hurling another punch, he delivered a roundhouse kick, which I managed to avoid by mere inches.

The guy was trained in martial arts, but that didn’t deter me. I spent most of my life learning and practicing various martial art techniques and I was just getting warmed up here.

Another kick, this time a vicious front one, was flying my way, but I was ready. While I bent my knees and tightened my core muscles, I let his foot pass me then grabbed it and yanked forward. The last thing I noticed before he went down was the sheer surprise in his eyes. He clearly hadn’t expected such a dirty move.

As soon as he hit the ground, I was on him, throwing a heavy punch to his jaw. His head snapped to the right, and he was out cold. Blood trickled from a cut on his lip and the spot where I hit him last was quickly turning red.

My knuckles hurt like a son of a bitch. Hitting someone in the jaw was only painless in the movies. I shook my hand, wincing. Willow was right beside me. “Jack, are you okay? Who is this guy?”

I looked at her, grimacing more from uncertainty than from pain. The last thing I needed was for her to see me fight again. That was exactly what broke us apart six years ago. “I’ll live,” I mumbled, worried what her next words might be.

“You’d better.” Her eyes danced all over my face as if checking for injuries. She took my throbbing hand and gently enclosed it inside both of hers. “Let’s put some ice on this. It hurts, doesn’t it?” There was so much gentleness and concern in her voice that I forgot all about the pain and gaped at her in disbelief.

“I called the cops already. Requested the same officers as before. I’ll look for Rita.” She got up and went inside the apartment. She turned the lights on and I heard her call out, “Rita, it’s me. Willow. Are you in here?”

I was still stunned by her unexpected reaction, when the guy on the floor stirred. He was coming around. I rolled him onto his stomach and swiftly pulled his arms back. He groaned and started to thrash, attempting to throw me off. I grabbed him by the hair and slammed his forehead on the floor, twice—hard. He lay motionless, probably unconscious.

I needed something to secure his wrists and ankles together. “Willow! Did you find Rita? I need you here!”

She rushed out of the apartment. “She’s in there, tied up and gagged… and really pissed off,” Willow said breathlessly. “I need to get a knife to cut through that rope.”

“Wait,” I stopped her. “Help me here first.” I pointed to the man. “Take off his boots.”

“What?” she asked in disbelief.

“Just do it.”

“But … what do you want his boots for?”

“Shoe laces. Pull them out, quick.”

Comprehension replaced the look of incredulity on her face. A moment later she was tying both laces into one long piece, using a double fisherman’s knot. I stared in awe at her rapidly-moving fingers. “Where the hell did you learn that?”

“Rock climbing.”

She rock-climbed? That was freakin’ impressive. Willow offered the perfectly-joined laces to me. I coiled it around the man’s wrists and secured the ends in a knot that probably wasn’t as perfect as Willow’s, but would definitely do the job.

“Okay, I’ll help with those ropes in a moment. Go check on Rita and find me something to tie his ankles. I don’t want to take any chances of him kicking one of us.” I stood up and dragged the guy inside. When his legs cleared the threshold, I closed and locked the door.

A moment later, Willow returned with a solid-looking leather belt and a box cutter. “Will this work?” She gave me the belt.

I examined it. The leather was thick and the buckle was well-made. I nodded. “Looks solid enough. Thanks.” I wrapped it twice around the man’s ankles and then secured the buckle.

He came around and started to squirm. “What are you doing, asshole? Let me go,” he hissed.

I ignored him. Willow stood silently, frowning.

“Untie me!”

“In your dreams. Lie still.”

I stood up and motioned for Willow to come with me. The guy lifted his face off the floor and looked at her. “Ah, so you’re that little bitch who put Seth in jail. Whores like you should be beaten to death. That’s what you deserve, you fucking thief.”

“Interesting,” I said, “So this is some kind of revenge for that snotface Seth?”

I made a move toward him to shut him up, but Willow grabbed my arm. “Not this time, Jack. Seth’s friends deserve a proper welcome.”

Before I even had a chance to ask what she meant Willow took a vase with a bouquet of wilted flowers from the small hallway table and dumped the decaying plants and dirty water over the guy’s head. She put the vase down and stood with her fists firmly planted on her hips, admiring her handiwork.

The guy sputtered, gasping for air. Dark, slimy pieces of leaves and stems clung onto his face and hair. Baring his teeth, he unleashed an impressive spate of profanities and threats toward Willow, myself, and whoever else he could think of at that moment.

Willow flashed a really nasty grin and, cocking her head said, her tone mocking, “Next time you want to come for a visit, let me know in advance so I can serve something fresher. This was all I had available. I hope you enjoyed it, nevertheless.”

I gaped at her in disbelief. She was actually enjoying herself and didn’t appear at least frightened or ashamed by the man’s nasty comments.

“Now, if you’ll please excuse us.” Willow turned on her heel and pulled me with her toward Rita’s bedroom.

We ignored his shrieks and his feet and head banging furiously on the floor. He kept yelling about his bail money, and how he was going to make Willow pay him back.

“That was classy.” I chuckled, referring to her putrid flower arrangement stunt.

She winked at me. “Glad you liked it.”

“Remind me not to ever piss you off.”

“I’ll make a note of it.”

Smart ass. I liked this new Willow more and more.

We found Rita on the floor, tied to her bed with a thick rope. Willow had already pulled the gag out of her mouth. “Jack! Help me out, would ya? I need to break that fuckface’s legs and arms.”

“You’re not breaking anybody’s limbs, Rita. Now, tell me what exactly happened.” I said and then asked Willow, “Where is that box cutter?”

Willow produced the blade and offered it to me.

Rita yelled obscenities at the guy again. He lay on the floor right outside the bedroom, while shouting equally colorful atrocities back at Rita.

“Be still, so I can cut that rope.” I kneeled down and began to slice through her bonds.

“Son of a bitch! I’m gonna fucking kill ya!” Rita screamed, struggling against her restraints. “Fucking asshole, who’s laughing now?”

“Rita, stop. Tell me what happened. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” Willow helped Rita sit up, while I continued cutting the rope.

“That prick over there attacked me when I was leaving the Black Pelican. With all the commotion … wait, do you know about the drive-by shooting?”

“Yes, we saw it on the news and immediately drove there to get you, but we couldn’t find you, and nobody knew where you were. I called and called but you didn’t answer,” Willow said in a rush.

A.O. Peart writes romantic comedy, romantic suspense, paranormal, and urban fantasy novels.

Her Bestselling romantic suspense novel Resist Me has been listed as #1 in several Amazon categories and on Bestseller lists, including the Movers & Shakers.

Books in her NA contemporary romantic comedy series Almost Bad Boys were also listed as Bestsellers on Amazon and were nominated by the Indie Romance Convention 2014 for four different categories, including The Best Indie Upcoming Series, while Angela was nominated as Best Indie Author of the Year 2014 http://indieromancecon.com/nominations/.

Almost Matched was voted as #36 among “The 50 Best Self-Published Books Worth Reading 2014” http://www.indieauthorland.com/50-self-published-books-worth-reading-201314-40-31/

Angela lives in the Seattle area with her family and a chronically curious cat Cinnamon. 
You can often spot her in one of the countless Seattle Starbucks locations, feverishly typing on her computer and sipping coffee with cream—or rather cream with some coffee in it. Don’t be surprised when a paperback you ordered from her arrives “decorated” with coffee and chocolate stains (kidding!)

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Book Title: Dreamer
Author: Phillip L. Davidson
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

The U. S. government initiates a secret assassination operation called Phoenix. An elite team of assassins carried out this operation. The mission failed. The team, headed by Captain David Elliott is captured and the horrors and long-term effects of being a P.O.W. are vividly detailed. In the meantime Captain David Elliott’s wife, Sunny is kidnapped by the Argentine Police. She is the love of his life. David and his team go on an international mission to rescue her. This is an action packed book that will have you on the edge of your seat.

From Darkness to Light – A Soldier’s Story

Phil Davidson

When I landed in Saigon in 1972 I thought knew about the dangers that were ahead. After all, I knew it was a desperate place. Fighting and dying had been going on long before I arrived there. As an Infantry officer, a Captain, I had been well trained. I could set ambushes, call in air strikes and shoot my way out of a gun-fight with the best of them. I had also hardened myself against my subordinates, and intellectualized that taking casualties was for the most part unavoidable. I also accepted that I might be killed or wounded, though I had made my mind up that I would never be captured. That was what my hand gun was for. But what I had not foreseen nor planned for was the ‘darkness.’

I had just snuck into my hideout from a night ambush mission when I received a secure radio call from my Six from his lair near the Mekong to be ready to be extracted in two hours. Two hours. As the chopper lifted off leaving my little team waiving to me I expected to be back after receiving another one of ‘those’ missions. Instead I was put on a plane and sent home. Arriving in America a couple of days later I was a man from space. Seventy-two hours earlier I had been in a fire -fight. Now I was picking ghostly insects from my meal at home. Two weeks later I was a ski instructor for the Northern Warfare School in Alaska.

It was there during those cold clear nights that I began experiencing the ‘dreams.’ They came at night, like an ambush team, while I was weak and vulnerable, and while my ego was resting. Images of the jungle, the people I knew, and the things I had done. And after awhile, I began to have waking dreams. Yes, the ‘Thousand Yard Stare.’ While you were driving, while you were talking, while you were eating, while… I fought the dreams with things I don’t want to write about. I left the Army. But the dreams never left.

They accompanied me while I was driving in my patrol car after I had become a police officer. They took the place of script as I studied my law books. When I would walk down the street a car backfiring or some loud noise would invoke an embarrassing response from me wherever I was and with whomever I was with at the time. I trusted no one and everyone and everything was out to get me. I even joined the National Guard to be able to act out my subconscious desires. I was at a point that I was at the end of myself. I couldn’t form personal relationships and felt alienated from everyone and the society I was in. The darkness had taken me. I was alone and suicidal. I had no family left to fall back on and the institutions I had made myself apart of were not set up for understanding the human condition of their employees.

As a small boy I had been a member of a church, a small group that meet in the basement of a larger house. One of the deacons was leaving, a plain man with a friendly smile and solid voice, he gave the children, there were three of us, Bibles as parting gifts. That was when I was twelve. I still had the Bible. My grandmother had kept it for me and when I left home after joining the police force she handed it to me. She didn’t say anything but she knew. One night for some reason, to this day I cannot tell you why, I thumbed through it. My eye was caught by the story of David. I read it. And in my mind his story was similar to mine. Over the days I formed a bond with David. If God loved a man like David, a man that he said was of his own heart, then there was a chance for me. After awhile, when the darkness came, David drew his sword of light and cut it away. David had put himself to the task of being God’s servant. He didn’t run from evil, he faced it. I decided to find out what the darkness was. I read everything I could about what I was experiencing. And I found out it had a name-delayed stress syndrome.

I took a real hard look at myself in the light of day and I realized that I had been saved from death and disaster so many times by God. If God wanted me to survive then my life was worth something. The darkness would not win the battle for my soul. Each time I felt myself losing control I remembered that I was not alone. Like David, I could use the armor of God to defeat what threatened me. That is a point of healing for anyone suffering from PTSD. Your life has value to God and he will help you to fight your darkness. God is a warrior and he knows how to win battles. He will help you to cope.

Once I focused my life away from my problems I began to see that many of my fellow police officers were showing symptoms of the darkness. I was now an instructor at the Police Academy and had recently received Master’s Degree in clinical psychology. I began teaching officers how to cope the darkness, now labeled, post traumatic stress disorder. Thus began my journey of teaching others to defeat this malady. In 1982 I was appointed to President Reagan’s Vietnam Veterans advisory committee, where I centered on PTSD. In the years to come I knew that I wanted to write about PTSD and what it had done to so many soldiers. But I also wanted to write about what had happened to me not my experiences but my being saved from the darkness by what I know was God’s grace. Some would call it redemption.

But how would I do this? I wrote Dreamer. Dreamer is novel about redemption, but not redemption in the classical sense that has been written about many times. How would God redeem warriors? Warriors who had been sentenced to live in the darkness for questionable conduct. God would come to them as a warrior. I knew that this concept might be foreign and perhaps offensive to many religious readers. But I felt it was a story that I had to tell.

My central character is a man named David. I patterned him from the Bible’s David. And like King David, Dreamer’s David was a failed human being. David and his team were called upon to carry out Phoenix missions in Vietnam and all had the left the service in disgrace. Years later God comes to them and brings them together to accomplish an impossible task that will redeem them and let them stand in the light of men once more.

I used as a background for the novel’s action, the Falklands War. I’m not sure if there has been any fiction written about the Falklands War. Dreamer is gritty. There is rough language, scenes of violence, but also tales of bravery and sacrifice. I wanted to take the Christian and other religious readers to a real world, a world where evil lives and to show how it can be defeated. Christ never flinched from entering places of evil men and danger. I hoped the Christian reader would find Dreamer a little dangerous but worth saving because Dreamer’s David’s dreams were not a product of PTSD but rather messages from God. Those messages brought him from darkness to light. God’s power will lead you into the light.

_______________

Phil Davidson is a practicing attorney in Nashville, TN and author of the book Dreamer. This is a novel about redemption and the power of God to restore the fallen. It is available on Amazon.com. This book has been written to inspire everyone and especially those with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder that there is a place for recovery in the arms of God.

Did your book require a lot of research? If so, what kind?

Yes, I had to do quite a lot – Phoenix, the CIA ‘s assassination program in Vietnam that led to Tet 658, The Argentine Secret Service that fought ‘the Dirty War’ and the Falklands War.

This book is very realistic when it comes to war and military actions. It has content for mature audiences because of its gritty nature. Life is that way, its raw, its real and it’s not all rose-colored glasses. Dreamer is an excellent book that shows the struggles that those in the military have to deal with, as well as life with challenges.

What inspired you to write Dreamer?

My belief is that God can and does intervene in our lives. I wanted to write about how he would do that with soldiers.

I wanted to tell a story about how God would offer redemption to warriors. I chose to portray God as a warrior. I know this thought is foreign to most religious readers but shouldn’t be. I took the lead character from the Bible character David, who like the characters in Dreamer was flawed but loved by God.

Can you share a little of your current work with us?

Dreamer is a book about failed warriors, who lost their way as soldiers and human beings, in the horror that was Vietnam. (That war is so far in people’s rear view mirror, that we have forgotten how really bad it was.) These men made up a SOG (Special Operations Group) team whose mission was to carry out the CIA’s Phoenix Program (the systematic assassination of suspected Viet Cong, (which was so successful it lead to Tet 68). The lead character, David, was the team leader. One of the team members betrayed the team and David is required to execute him, but he is stopped from carrying out the execution by an unseen but powerful force.

His failure to do his duty lead to a horrific chain of events that ends with the team being captured, and tortured. At the moment that death is at hand, the team makes a pact – a covenant with God, that if he saves them they would aid each other no matter what or when for the rest of their lives. Afterwards, each man lives in the “darkness”. Years later God comes to them and give them the chance to redeem themselves and stand in the “light of men” once again. But the path he chooses paralleled with death and destruction. Dreamer is about redemption. God as a warrior gives grace and the chance for redemption to other warriors.
What was the toughest criticism given to you? What was the biggest compliment?

My first reviewer said there was too much sex in the book. She seemed to think I was pre-occupied with the sexual relationships of the characters. I took her comments to heart and toned it down in a rewrite. The biggest compliment was that one reader said he was inspired.

Philip Davidson is a former Vietnam veteran. He was awarded the Bronze Star, Combat Infantry Badge and Vietnamese Jump Wings. He was also a Kit Carson Scout. He was the author of the first SWAT Tactical Training Manual that has been used to train police across the country and served on President Reagan’s Veteran’s Affairs Council. His novel Dreamer is a military thriller and historical fiction about various wars and touches on the controversial subject of PTSD. Davidson is currently a Civil Rights Attorney residing in Nashville, TN. Contact Phil Davidson at www.phildavidsonbooks.com.

Book Title: Love the Way You Lie Author: Skye Warren Genre: Dark Romance Release Date: March 12, 2015 Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

A dark romance about the lies that lead us down…

I’ll do anything to get safe, even if that means working at the scariest club in town. I’ll do anything to stay hidden, even if it means taking off my clothes for strangers. I’ll do anything to be free. Except give him up. When he looks at me, I forget why I can’t have him. He’s beautiful and scarred. His body fits mine, filling the places where I’m hollow, rough where I am soft. He’s the one man who wants to help, but he has his own agenda. He has questions I can’t answer. What are you afraid of? You.

In the first moments onstage, I’m always blinded. The bright lights, the smoke. The wall of sound that feels almost tangible, as if it’s trying to keep me out, push me back, protect me from what’s going to happen next. I’m used to the dancing and the catcalls and the reaching, grabbing hands—as much as I can be. But I’m never quite used to this moment, being blinded, feeling small. I reach for the pole and find it, swinging my body around so the gauzy scrap of fabric flies up, giving the men near the stage a view of my ass. I still can’t quite make anything out. There are dark spots in my vision. The smile’s not even a lie, not really. It’s a prop, like the four-inch heels and the wings that snap as I drop them to the stage. Broken. A few people clap from the back. Now all that’s left is the thin satin fabric. I grip the pole and head into my routine, wrapping around, sliding off, and starting all over again. I lose myself in the physicality of it, going into the zone as if I were running a marathon. This is the best part, reveling in the burn of my muscles, the slide of the metal pole against my skin and the cold, angry rhythm of the song. It’s not like ballet, but it’s still a routine. Something solid, when very few things in my life are solid. I finish on the pole and begin to work the stage, moving around so I can collect tips. I can see again, just barely, making out shadowy silhouettes in the chairs. Not many. There’s a regular on one side. I recognize him. Charlie. He tosses a five-dollar bill on the stage, and I bend down long and slow to pick it up. He gets a wink and a shimmy for his donation. As I’m straightening, I spot another man on the other side of the stage. His posture is slouched, one leg kicked out, the other under his chair, but somehow I can tell he isn’t really relaxed. There’s tension in the long lines of his body. There’s power. And that makes me nervous. I spin away and shake my shit for the opposite side of the room, even though there’s barely anyone there. It’s only a matter of time before I need to face him again. But I don’t need to look at him. They don’t pay me to look them in the eye. Still I can’t help but notice his leather boots and padded jacket. Did he ride a motorcycle? It seems like that kind of leather, the tough kind. Meant to withstand weather. Meant to protect the body from impact. The song’s coming to a close, my routine is coming to an end and I’m glad about that. Something about this guy is throwing me off. Nothing noticeable. My feet and hands and knowing smile still land everywhere they need to. Muscle memory and all that. But I don’t like the way he watches me. There’s patience in the way he watches me. And patience implies waiting. It implies planning. I reach back and unclasp my bra. I use one hand to cover my breasts while I toss the bra to the back of the stage. I pretend to be shy for a few seconds, and suddenly I feel shy too. Like I’m doing more than showing my breasts to strangers. I’m showing him. And as I stand there, hand cupping my breasts, breath coming fast, I feel his patience like a hot flame. This time I do miss the beat. I let go on the next one, though, and my breasts are free, bared to the smoky air and the hungry eyes. There are a few whistles from around the room. Charlie holds up another five-dollar bill. I sway over to him and cock my hip, letting him shove the bill into my thong, feeling his hot, damp breath against my breast. He gets close but doesn’t touch. That’s Charlie. He tips and follows the rules, the best kind of customer. I don’t even glance at the other side of the room. If the new guy is holding up a tip, I don’t even care. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who follows rules. I don’t know why I’m even thinking about him or letting him affect me. Maybe my run-in with Blue made me more skittish than I’d realized. All I have left is my finale on the pole. I can get through this. This part isn’t as physically strenuous as before. Or as long. All I really need to do is grind up against the pole, front and back, emphasizing my newly naked breasts, pretending to fuck. That’s what I’m doing when I feel it. Feel him. I’m a practical girl. I have to be. But there’s a feeling I get, a prickle on the back of my neck, a churning in my gut, a warning bell in my head when I’m near one of them. Near a cop. My eyes scan the back of the room, but all I can see are shadows. Is there a cop waiting to bust someone? A raid about to go down? My gaze lands on the guy near the stage. Him? He doesn’t look like a cop. He doesn’t feel like a cop. But I don’t trust looks or feelings. All I can trust is the alarm blaring in my head: get out, get out, get out. I can barely suck in enough air. There’s only smoke and rising panic. Blood races through me, speeding up my movements. A cop. I feel it like some kind of sixth sense. Maybe he feels my intuition about him, because he leans forward in his seat. In one heart-stopping moment, my eyes meet his. I can see his face then, drawn from charcoal shadows. Beautiful, his lips say. All I can hear is the song. I’m not even on beat anymore, and it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because there’s a cop here and I have to get out. Even if my intuition is wrong, it’s better to get out. Safer. I’ll never be safe. The last note calls for a curtsy—a sexy, mocking movement I choreographed into my routine. Like the one I’d do at the end of a ballet recital but made vulgar. I barely manage it this time, a rough jerk of my head and shoulders. Then I’m gone, off the stage, running down the hallway. I’m supposed to work the floor next, see who wants a lap dance or another drink, but I can’t do that. I head for the dressing room and throw on a T-shirt and sweatpants. I’ll tell them I feel sick and have to leave early. They won’t be happy and I’ll probably have to pay for it with my tips, but they won’t want me throwing up on the customers either. I run for the door and almost slam into Blue. He’s standing in the hallway again. Not slouching this time. There’s a new alertness to his stare. And something else—amusement. “Going somewhere?” he asks. “I have to… My stomach hurts. I feel sick.” I step close, praying he’ll move aside. He reaches up to trace my cheek. “Aww, should I call the doctor?” His hand clamps down on my shoulder. “I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you.” I grip my bag tight to my chest, trying to ignore the threat in his words. And the threat in his grip. I really do feel sick now, but throwing up on him is definitely not going to help the situation. “Please, I need to leave. It’s serious. I’ll make it up later.” He’ll know what I’m saying. That I’ll make it up to him personally. I’m just desperate enough to promise that. Desperate enough to promise him anything. And he’s harassed me long enough that I know it’s a decent prize. I’m sure he’ll make it extra humiliating, but I’m desperate enough for that too. “Please let me go.” The words come out pained, my voice thin. It feels a little like my body is collapsing in on itself, steel beams bending together, something crushing me from the outside. Regret flashes over his face, whether for refusing my offer or forcing me that low. But this time he doesn’t let me go. “There’s a customer asking for you. He wants a dance.”

Can you introduce yourself and tell us what kind of books you write? I’m Skye Warren, the New York Times bestselling author of dark romance! Thank you so much for the opportunity to share my new release, Love the Way You Lie. It explores taboo themes like betrayal and redemption, overlayed with suspense. If you’re up for something dangerous, disturbing and erotic, take a look… What is Love the Way You Lie About? Love the Way You Lie has a stripper heroine and a mysterious lone biker who is first her customer, then her lover, then her… well, you’ll have to read to find out. What you should know is that the book is dark, edgy, and sexy as hell. This is the first book in a new series set in a strip club called The Grand. Who is your favorite character in the book? I love my heroes—their gruffness, their pain, their occasional cruelty. But I have a real soft spot for my heroines. So I would have to say I loved Honey the most. She is beaten down but determined, bent but not broken. For me that’s what strength is about. What is the hardest part of writing for you? Nothing and everything. I love the actual writing, coming up with a story and falling in love with them. But reader expectation is such a tough thing—it’s tough in any genre but has particular challenges for dark books. Even the word dark means different things to different readers. But ultimately I can only write the books I love and hope that my readers enjoy them. What do you love about alpha heroes? Or anti-heroes, if that applies? Why are these anti-heroes so damn appealing? Well, for one thing, they are tough and driven. They don’t take crap from anyone…even the heroine, sometimes. They often do follow their own code of honor, it just doesn’t necessarily match everyone else’s. But I think it’s something more elemental than that. A man who takes what he wants, damn the rules? Well…it’s plain sexy. What makes a sex scene sexy to you? Or alternately, what do you do to write hot scenes? I love a scene I can get lost in, both the physical sensations and the emotional resonance. And what I find most sexy is when power comes into play. Not with games, but where one side has the upper hand, the mingling of distrust and desire, of wariness and want. What else should readers know about Love the Way You Lie? There’s also a free prequel to the series coming. The best way to stay up to date about my releases is my newsletter here: http://www.skyewarren.com/newsletter

Skye Warren is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of dark romantic fiction. Her books are raw, sexual and perversely romantic.

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I’ll be honest and say it has been a while since I finished this book and as a tribute to how much it affected me I’m actually still wallowing in its aftermath.

This has been such a gritty and realistic story of two pretty messed up men looking for some form of normality in a hugely prejudiced society. I was drawn immediately to both characters, many because of how broken then both were. Barbara has a wonderful way of making you FEEL through the pages and I honestly warmed to both Malachi and Harper within a few pages of starting the book. Circumstances have made life unbearable for both of them and Harper has lost everything for the last ten years through a long incarceration and Malachi is almost in the same boat. His imprisonment was more emotional than physical in the end but it made it so hard for me to see light at the end of their very dark tunnel.

This was another thing, I was drawn in to their tormented lives from the first page and I devoured their story in almost one sitting (I Have small kids and they sometime get in the way of a good book!). From the moment they see each other at the beginning of the book, you know that somehow they will make it because their attraction to each other isn’t just strong, its a connection that you can feel. I spent the best part of the book wondering how in the face of everything life has dealt, would they ever manage to be happy.

Let me say though that when the times are happy, you feel buoyed by their relationship and the moments where thee sadness and inevitable obstacles creep in you also feel their pain and sorrow. I was fully divested in this book emotionally and the roller coaster ride that Malachi and Harper take you on is one that will stay with you for a long time. The ending is certainly not the turn of events that I was excepting and it was a really fitting end to their story.

And as a local girl I also loved the fact i didn’t have to use my imagination too much to visualise! I still keep thinking I might see Harper lurking one day in my local supermarket, looking at the toiletries…

I cannot wait to read Conrad’s story and this definitely gets a full 5* from me. An absolutely amazing read!

Synopsis:

Falling is easy. Landing without breaking your heart? Impossible.

Harper is no longer behind bars, but it doesn’t feel like it. Ten years serving time for a crime he didn’t commit have left him shut down, numb, and a frozen wreck over the simplest of choices.

He’s acutely aware of the dark-haired young man checking him out in the supermarket, but he’s too deep in panic mode to even meet the guy’s gaze. Afraid the slightest move will trigger a fall that will never stop.

Fresh off a long-term relationship with a controlling man, Malachi is stuck living with relatives who think he’s a waste of oxygen. The tall guy in the long, gray coat is the first bright spot he’s glimpsed in a long time…though the man’s unblinking stare at a bottle of shower gel is a touch alarming.

Hard experience tells both of them to turn away before lust turns to hopeless attraction, and inevitably to disaster. But once their sparks connect, the arc of electricity is too strong to deny. Even if the cost is too much to bear.

Warning: Contains an ex-con with disaster written all over him, a boy toy who’s trouble with a capital T, a damp old British house, compulsive meddling, and enough hot sex to cure the severe case of nervous babbling.

About the Author:

Barbara Elsborg lives in West Yorkshire in the north of England. She always wanted to be a spy, but having confessed to everyone without them even resorting to torture, she decided it was not for her. Vulcanology scorched her feet. A morbid fear of sharks put paid to marine biology. So instead, she spent several years successfully selling cyanide.

After dragging up two rotten, ungrateful children and frustrating her sexy, devoted, wonderful husband (who can now stop twisting her arm) she finally has time to conduct an affair with an electrifying plugged-in male, her laptop.

Her books feature quirky heroines and bad boys, and she hopes they are as much fun to read as they are to write.

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Book Title: Steeling My Haart
Author: Lizzy Roberts
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: March 13, 2015
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

Eight years ago Emma’s life is ripped apart when Charlie saves her life from a devastating tornado and walks away. Left with nothing, she moves from Glen Springs, Oklahoma to New York. She finds success, but the only thing that feels like home is M’s Place, the diner near her apartment.

A trip to Las Vegas changes everything. Things are looking up then tragedy strikes. Emma moves back to Oklahoma with more on her plate than she ever imagined. Can she finally get her life together and put the history between her and Charlie to rest?

Charlie turned to grab his sweetheart to pull her into the safety of the shelter and he found she had vanished. His heart failed when he realized that she could be anywhere by now if she had been caught in an updraft because the power of this storm was terrific. He stood from his position near the entrance and glanced around in every direction. Even though it was pointless he started frantically shouting,

“Emma, Emma where are you? Emma!”

His voice drowned out by the relentless force in play around him. Seconds later he ran in the general direction of a muffled scream. The intensity of the wind had obviously dragged her several meters from the shelter. Because of the increasing force of the storm and she was clinging for dear life to a tree. Grabbing her with both hands and holding on with all his might, he managed to free her grip from the tree trunk and dragged her down the stairs into the cellar. He safeguarded her on the floor near the shadow of what looked like a small bed and then went back up and tightly secured the shelter door. He took a moment to silently thank old Mrs. Fitzgerald for her emergency planning.

As the relief hit him and the adrenaline coursed through his veins he fell against the dirt wall of the entrance tunnel with his back and his legs gave way. Letting out a long sigh, he realized he could hear the sounds of gentle sobbing coming from deeper in the shelter. The noise outside was phenomenal although he hoped that the storm would relent soon. He crawled slowly on his hands and knees towards his beautiful girlfriend, the love of his life, and took her into his arms and held on like it was all he could do to survive.

As Emma melted into him, he felt complete and he lost count of how many minutes they sat there in the darkness just listening to the sounds of the storm raging above them. The only other sounds were of their ragged breaths and thundering heartbeats. That had been too close.

30 – something Mum of two from the North of England (Yorkshire to be precise AKA Gods own Country) who regularly seeks refuge in fictional characters minds. Prefers the hot and hunky men with a romantic side but not averse to a dominant man, nor ones with a dark side too! She decided, after much persuasion from both her friends and especially her husband to pursue her dream of one day publishing her own book! So after much deliberation (and nagging from him indoors), her first book Steeling my Haart due for release March 2015!

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Kennedy Anderson has continually struggled with the crummy hand life has dealt her. A failed, abusive marriage has left her worn, yet relieved that the past is finally locked away. Unfortunately, the past has a way of repeating itself. Once again faced with tragedy and despair, Kennedy’s anguish is multiplied by the fact that she doesn’t suffer alone; she now has a two year old daughter, Ashlynn.

Love has only served to complicate Corbin Nash’s life.

He’s focused, hardworking, and dedicated to regaining his middleweight title until the unlikely duo of Kennedy and Ashlynn enter his life. While trying to help her fight her demons, Corbin finds his own resurfacing, steadily revealing the secrets he’s worked so hard to keep buried the last eighteen years.

Two beaten and battered souls, desperate to break free of the misery…

Will they cower to their plagued pasts, or will they fight through the despair and finally find the happiness that has evaded them their entire lives?

Author Kinsey Taylor lives in the beautiful state of Washington. You’ll find her running after her three crazy minions, two food-loving dogs, and a moody cat who believes he’s the King of their castle. Her inspiration for her books comes from deep in her heart, inspired by her soul mate and husbands adoring support. The everlasting romantic, Kinsey’s writing is sure to give twists, turns, and plenty of drama that will leave you breathless.

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Dove Glitch is embarrassed about everything above her knees and below her belly button. When she has to fill a delicate, embarrassing prescription the last thing she needs is a sexy-as-hell (and brand spanking new) pharmacist behind the counter.

Johnson Fitzwell’s first day of his dream career also happens to coincide with the exact moment Dove needs her feminine meds filled. His glorious voice is way too loud–as in, he should be counting down the hits with Ryan Seacrest kind of loud. Thanks to Johnson’s handsome face and gorgeous jaw line, Dove dives headlong into her waking nightmare and asks for a vagina-scented cream.

How could she not fall for him? Dove’s only active goal now is to get Johnson to kiss her right on the lips. Either set. However, his horrible girlfriend is one of many obstacles preventing her from making that fantasy a reality. When Dove defends Johnson in the most unhygienic, unconventionally gross way in the middle of a crowded restaurant, their tender, slightly tantric relationship is off to a galloping, farting start.

Each print copy of this book will be dipped in holy water by my mom, and glared at by my father as he purses his lips. Neither will help. So, drop your pants and turn to the left and cough. I hope you’re not allergic to latex, because it’s time to fill your prescription. Anally.

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