Dos Angeles Book Tour @GoddessFish

DOS ANGELES

by Michael O’Hara

 

SBB_TourBanner_DosAngeles copy

 

ROOM WITH BOOKS encourages our readers to follow the tour and leave a comment.

 

GENRE: Mystery

 

About the Book

Dos Angeles, the first in a franchise of mysteries featuring Paco Moran, puts the multicultural thirty-something ex-LAPD homicide detective turned reluctant private eye on the trail of a beautiful young Latina on the run with ten million dollars in cash. Half Anglo and half Mexican, Moran is a transitional character equally at home working in Beverly Hills or blue collar Boyle Heights, the tough East Los Angeles neighborhood where he was raised by a single mom. In his debut case Paco quickly learns he will be the fall guy if he doesn’t track down the young immigrant who allegedly stole a small fortune from a sleazy Hollywood producer secretly laundering money for a notorious drug cartel. Paco’s frantic search takes him on a roller-coaster ride through a shadowy place he calls Dos Angeles a city within the city and a virtual country unto itself.

MediaKit_BookCover_DosAngeles

 

Excerpt

Then, the day before the Pirellis were due home, something unexpected came up that needed her immediate attention. On hearing what she thought was the sound of a toilet running she first checked downstairs before heading up to the master suite. Inside the gaudy all gold and marble bathroom she discovered a puddle of water seeping out from inside the extra-long double vanity. Opening the main cabinet doors she saw one of the stainless steel hoses was leaking badly. She tried to tighten the connection but it had no effect. Afraid she might make matters worse, she turned off the valve and hurried downstairs to call a plumber on the approved contact list.

A half hour later Sid Kantor showed up and Maria was immediately intimidated by his off-putting physical presence. Short and obesely overweight with a large shaved head, a Quaker-like beard, and dull, hooded eyes, Kantor reminded her of El Malvado, a cartoon villain that used to terrify her as a little girl in Oaxaca. Because of that and his gruff, unfriendly manner, she quickly sensed he was one of those aggressive white foreigners who only saw Mexicans as workers, never as equals.

Not about to give him the satisfaction of staring at her shapely bottom on the way up the steep winding staircase, she politely stepped aside and gestured for him to lead the way. By the time they reached the second floor landing he was grunting and panting so much she feared he might have a heart attack.

“Are you okay, sir?” she asked with genuine concern.

“Ya, ya,” he muttered, wiping his brow with his shirt sleeve. “It’s dis damn heat.”

Minutes later Maria stood by patiently as Kantor awkwardly maneuvered his way under the sink to remove and replace the faulty hose. When he finally finished he turned the water back on to test it.

“Dat should do it,” he said in a heavily accented, non-American voice. “Let run five minutes to make sure.”

After struggling to get back up on his feet Kantor gestured with the flashlight he’d been using, illuminating the inside of the cabinet.

“You know what behind dere?” he asked, focusing the light on a small pocket door under the sink.

“Behind where?” Maria was confused.

“Dere, dere!” he growled, swirling the light around to emphasize what he was talking about

“I don’t know,” she shrugged.

“Strange. Hah?” He pointed the flashlight at the door again. “Must be something back dere.”

Since Kantor was obviously way too big to crawl through himself, Maria volunteered to take a look while he was still there.

“No time,” he said, tapping on his watch. “Late for next appointment.”

He handed her a business card. “You call if any more problems.”

She promised she would and saw him out.

After he left, she decided to return upstairs to check behind the cabinet to make sure there were no hidden pipes that could be leaking. When she slid open the mystery door, she was startled to discover a secret room. “Dios mío!” she whispered.

 

About the Author

MediaKit_AuthorPhoto_DosAngelesEmmy nominee Michael O’Hara– who has written and produced some of the highest-rated television movies and miniseries in recent memory – is adding author to his resume with the August, 2015 the publication of his first novel,  Dos Angeles.

The book, featuring a bilingual and bicultural private eye named Paco Moran, centers around Moran’s desperate search for a beautiful young Latina immigrant who stole ten million dollars from the mob. In a pre-publication review American Book Award winner Peter Quinn said: Paco Moran’s debut in Michael O’Hara’s Dos Angeles is fast-paced, finely crafted, and full of surprises. It’s noir fiction for the 21st century, a helluva ride from the first page to last. Here’s hoping O’Hara brings Paco back very soon. I can’t wait!

A former award-winning journalist and NBC Vice President of Media Relations, O’Hara made an auspicious debut as a writer/producer with “Those She Left Behind,” a critically acclaimed family drama that continues to be the highest-rated TV movie (25.1/38 share) on any network in over twenty years. It starred Gary Cole and Colleen Dewhurst (who won an Emmy Award for her performance). That success was followed by the widely praised NBC movie “She Said No” which won an American Women in Radio & Television Award for Best Television Dramatic Special.

O’Hara next wrote and executive produced “Switched at Birth,” the blockbuster NBC miniseries that earned an Emmy nomination as Best Dramatic Special and remains the highest rated (22 rating/33 share) miniseries on network television since its initial telecast over two decades ago. He was also the writer and executive producer of “Murder in the Heartland,” a celebrated ABC miniseries which garnered a Casting Society of America Award and two Emmy nominations. Right after that he created and executive produced the first of 22 “Moment of Truth” movies for NBC, establishing one of the most successful film franchises in TV history.

O’Hara also wrote “She Woke Up Pregnant,” the pilot for ABC’s ‘Crimes of Passion’ franchise. It scored an impressive 13.4 rating and 21 share, making it the highest-rated ABC movie of the year. He went on to write “One Hot Summer Night,” another ‘Crimes of Passion’ thriller that was ABC’s highest-rated Thursday night movie of the season. Other producing credits include two CBS projects: “Twilight Zone – Rod Serling’s Lost Classics” and “A Child’s Wish,” which was filmed in the Oval Office and featured a cameo appearance by then President Bill Clinton. In addition he wrote and executive produced NBC’s “In His Life: The John Lennon Story” and “1st to Die,” a two-part NBC miniseries based on the best-selling novel by James Patterson.

Overall O’Hara has produced four miniseries and 33 Movies of the Week. Besides his Emmy nomination, other honors include: a Christopher Award (“A Child’s Wish”); a Prism Award (“The Accident”); a Humanitas Award nomination (“Heart of a Child”); a National Easter Seal Society Award (“To Walk Again”); an International Health & Medical Film Award (“Heart of a Child”); and the Media Award from The National Council on Problem Gambling (“Playing to Win.”)

Michael-ohara.com

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14203330.Michael_O_Hara

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Dos-Angeles/1143487899001779

 

Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway//widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js

 

Ascenders Blog Tour @CLGaber

Title: Ascenders

Author: C.L. Gaber

 

Ascenders Tour Banner

 

Genre: YA Fantasy/Sci-Fi

Hosted by: Lady Amber’s Tours

 

About the Book

Walker Callaghan doesn’t know what happened to her. One minute she was living her teenage life in suburban Chicago…and the next minute, she was in a strange place and in a brand new school with absolutely no homework, no rules, and no consequences. Walker Callaghan, 17, is dead. She doesn’t go to heaven or hell. She lands at The Academy, a middle realm where teenagers have one thing in common: They were the morning announcement at their high schools because they died young.

These high school kids are now caught in a strange “in-between” zone where life hasn’t changed very much. In fact, this special teen limbo looks a lot like life in a quaint Michigan town complete with jocks, popular girls and cliques. “There are even cheerleaders in death,” Walker observes. It’s not a coincidence that the music teacher is a guy named Kurt who “used to have this band.” The drama teacher, Heath, is crush worthy because back in his life, he starred in some superhero movie.  

Principal King explains the rules — there are none. Why? You can’t die twice.  

There is no homework. No tests. No SATS. You’re just there to learn because the human brain isn’t fully formed until you’re 24.

By the way, you can’t get hurt physically, so race your Harley off that hillside. But falling in love is the most dangerous thing you can do …because no one knows how long you’ll stay in this realm or what’s next.  

“Losing someone you love would be like dying twice,” Walker says.

* * * * * *  

Walker Callaghan has just arrived at the Academy after a tragic car accident. “Is this heaven or is this high school?” she asks.  

She finds out her new life is a bit of both as she falls in love with tat-covered, bad boy Daniel Reid who is about to break the only sacred rule of this place. He’s looking for a portal to return back to the living realm.  

He needs just one hour to retrieve his younger brother who strangely never arrived at The Academy. Bobby is an Earth Bound Spirit, stuck at a plane crash site that took both of their lives as their rich father piloted his private jet nose-first into a cornfield on Christmas Eve.  

Walker loves Daniel and risks it all to go with him.  

Have they learned enough to outsmart dangerous forces while transporting a young child with them? Can their love survive the fragmented evil parts of themselves that are now hunting them down as they try to find a way back to the middle?  

At the Academy, you learn the lessons of an after-lifetime.

Add to Goodreads

 

Book Trailer

 

About the Author

CL GABER is the author of ASCENDERS, the first book in the ASCENDERS saga. She’s also the co-author of the YA book JEX MALONE and the sequel due in 2016. Muggletnet.com, the world’s largest Harry Potter site, did a rare review of a non-Potter book and called Ascenders, “a book we wish we could read over and over again.” Book 2 in the Ascenders Saga will be published in spring, 2015. A trailer for the book series contains original music by Roger O’Donnell of the iconic rock band The Cure and was produced by Orian Williams (“Control,” “Shadow of a Vampire.”). 

As Cindy Pearlman (her maiden name), Cindy is a well known senior entertainment journalist for the New York Times Syndicate, with stories appearing worldwide, and the Chicago Sun Times. A pop culture expert, her work has appeared in Entertainment Weekly, People, TV Guide, Elle and National Geographic, and many other publications. Cindy has co-written over 40 books for actors, musicians, athletes and wellness experts including several New York Times best sellers. She is the author of her own film anthology book “You Gotta See This.” A native of Chicago, Cindy lives outside of Las Vegas. 

Connect With the Author

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1KgEUkH

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorclgaber

Twitter: https://twitter.com/CLGaber

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7854535.C_L_Gaber

Website: http://ascenderssaga.com/

 

Purchase Links

AMAZON

KINDLE

ITUNES

 

Excerpt

INTRODUCTION

I was there. And then I was gone.

My mother gave me no notice that we were relocating.

Suddenly, we had just moved without all that annoying planning and packing. Somehow my clothes were thrown into boxes with shoes that were missing mates. Someone had packed my books and CDs, and had even reached under my bed into that secret hiding place I counted on to protect my treasures; like the iPod loaded with the best and worst of everything from Nirvana to the Stones, plus my lucky green rabbit’s foot—because you just never knew when you would need a little extra luck.

My mother must have remembered the family photo album because there it was on our brand-new living room coffee table that I passed on the way to my very own bedroom and a bed I had never slept in a day in my life.

It was strange because we could barely afford to pay the rent each month, let alone buy something as nice as a hand-carved oak table imported from someplace far, far away. When I had looked, the tag didn’t say from where.

It was just imported.

It was one of those times when you go from A to Z so fast that you hardly remember any of the in-between. Or as I—Walker Callaghan—senior at Kennedy High School in suburban Chicago and news editor of the school paper the Charger liked to say, “Maybe it’s not about the happy ending. Maybe it’s about the story.”

Flopping onto my new, handsome, four-poster bed with lovely little tulips carved into the wood, I thought it was so unlike my mother, the master planner, to do something this off-the-cuff. My mother was a woman who made a battle plan to go to the local 7-Eleven for almost-expiration-date milk. Even weirder was the fact that we had moved farther away than anyone imagined. A lot farther.

“So run this by me one more time, Mom,” I shouted. “I must have been heavily medicated or feeling really sorry for myself. We moved? You pulled the trigger. Bang-bang—relocation?”

I didn’t give her time to answer.

“A new school in my senior year of high school?” I called out to her on a murky, cold winter morning on Burning Tree Court.

Even though I was letting the heat escape and Mom had always said we didn’t live to “support Commonwealth Edison,” our old electric company, I still opened my bedroom window wide and found that the air drifting in was stun-your-senses Arctic cold. It smelled green and fresh outside and those dense marshmallow patches of white fluff in the sky could only mean serious snow because they were roasted dark on the bottom.

I tried to shiver, but couldn’t. I was perfectly warm despite the window and the fact that I was wearing faded jeans and a well- washed blue cotton tank that read: Normal People Scare Me.

In true dramatic fashion, I couldn’t resist needling the one 12 person responsible for our fate, our new house, and everything in it that was unknown and strange. “Mom, new school. Senior year. I’ll have no friends here. Are you trying to kill me?”

Without knowing how or why, I was now enrolled in this elite- sounding new school called the Academy, which sounded quite upscale and serious to a girl whose educational pursuits consisted of a generic public-school education outside of a big melting-pot city, where you were either rich (if you were lucky) or you were normal (if you were like everybody else). Our family worked hard at being desperately normal.

“Great, it will be a bunch of rich, stuck-up snobs who will hate me—and cheerleaders. There are always cheerleaders.  They’re like cockroaches. You can’t get rid of them,” I concluded, yelling from my new room to hers, which was somewhere down a hallway that I had never really navigated before.

“I hear it’s quite fancy,” Mom called from her room. “A Callaghan going to a private school. Imagine.”

I didn’t have to imagine it as I was living it. Of course, I didn’t know it at the time, but when I had asked that question,  Madeleine Callaghan, my mom, the mover and shaker in my life, had cringed and then cried hard into a brand-new washcloth she didn’t recognize—the thick kind we could never afford. The weeper was the one who had given me the odd-for-a-girl first name, which was her maiden name before she married my father, steel worker Sam Callaghan. We weren’t just blue-collar, but faded blue-collar from clothes that had far too many seasons of washings. In our family, the rule was “Don’t throw it out unless it’s dead-dead.”

Running my finger along the smooth wood of my expensive new dresser with the intoxicating just-cut-tree smell, I ducked down on the ground to read the label on the bottom. Imported from R-19877. Really? Did we win the lottery? And what was with the secret spy code?

“Honey, please, I’m begging you,” Mom answered after appearing in my doorway. “For once, let’s not do the Diane Sawyer investigation act. I can’t do twenty rounds of questions. Not today.” Her voice sounded thick like she had a cold, so I closed the window.

“There is no need to insult Diane who probably doesn’t even have a dresser this nice,” I replied.

“Walker, let me make you some breakfast,” Mom said. “Everything is always better after a little oatmeal and orange juice. You’ll see.”

 

The Garden of Fate Release Day Blitz @LLHunterbooks

Title: The Garden of Fate
Series: The Eden Chronicles book 3
Author: L.L. Hunter
Genre: YA paranormal fantasy
Release Date: 30th September 2015

 

Blurb
Jazmine had evaded capture for two thousand years, so she wasn’t about to let two teenagers ruin her plans.

With Jazmine on the run, Eden and Asher have a new threat to worry about; the fact that their relationship was doomed from the beginning.
Even with the law and all kinds of supernatural forces against them, will love conquer?

In the thrilling conclusion to The Eden Chronicles, from the author of the bestselling The Legend of the Archangel series, can Eden and Asher stop the Angel of Fate from changing their lives forever?


Purchase Links:

1. The Garden of Eden

2: The Garden of Death

3. The Garden of Fate
L.L. Hunter is the author of over 20 published works, including The Legend of the Archangel Series and The Eden Chronicles. She has studied everything from veterinary nursing, forensic science, and dramatic arts, but has always known her true calling was to be an author. She has been writing since her teens – everything from fan fiction, to song lyrics, to plays and musicals. When not working on her next paranormal romance, she can be found at home in Australia, reading somewhere comfortable with one or both of her “fur babies.”
Social Media
Instagram: @llhunter
Google +: google.com/+LLHunter



Tear Drop Book Blitz @JMClancyWriter @BPICPromos

Tear Drop
by Joanne Clancy
Series: Detective Elizabeth Ireland, Book 1
Genre: Mystery/ Police Procedural
Release Date: August 27, 2015

 

 

The crimes of the past echo in the present…

Ross Campbell vanished almost a decade ago, and since then nothing has been heard from the serial killer known as Teardrop…until now.

An Irish newspaper receives a chilling letter claiming to be from Campbell, which promises a new reign of terror. As death stalks the dark streets of Cork City, it soon becomes clear to the police and the media that a serial killer is on the loose.

Elizabeth Ireland, a former detective with The Metropolitan Police, was the lead investigator on the original case when Campbell vanished. However, only she believes that Campbell didn’t send the letter.

She embarks upon a frightening psychological journey to uncover the killer’s identity, where she’s pulled into a lethal game in which the killer sets the rules and waits for her next move. With the crimes of the past echoing in the present, can she find the killer before he comes for her?

 

 

Chapter One

The cold rain fell relentlessly, shrouding Cork City in its misty veil. Elizabeth Ireland sat by the window of her favourite coffee shop, where the smell of fresh scones and strong coffee cocooned her from the encroaching winter. The place was quiet and rundown but it was the one place in the city that cherished silence as much as she did.
Elizabeth scanned BBC London’s website for any news from home. She glanced up as the door chimed and watched the man violently shake off the rain. A moment before their eyes met, she averted her gaze, knowing he was looking for her; Brendan Mahon didn’t have the intelligence or subtlety to feign an accidental meeting. She ignored him, hoping that he’d take the hint and leave her in peace, instead he headed straight for her table.
“Good morning, Elizabeth,” he said, revealing a smile that didn’t reach his hazel eyes.
“Morning,” she said curtly. She watched him run his fingers through his dirty blond hair, in a way that someone with a cruel sense of humour must have told him was attractive.
“It’s a day for the ducks,” he said.
She shrugged and turned back to her iPad.
Brendan Mahon was a journalist with The Examiner, one of Ireland’s leading newspapers. When his editor couldn’t find anyone with anything more incisive to say, Brendan was handy to fill a column or two. Elizabeth had never liked him, and she had no problem making her feelings known.
“May I join you?” he asked.
“No.” She sighed at his predictability.
He laughed and pulled up a chair anyway. It amazed her how he always took her blatant rudeness for sarcasm. He placed a brown envelope on the table between them. She didn’t give him the satisfaction of looking at it. If he wanted something from her, he’d have to ask.
“Would you like anything?” he asked instead.
“I’ve been coming here most mornings for the past nine years, Brendan. I think I can order for myself.”
“What did you have to eat?” he asked, ignoring her brusque tone. He picked up the menu, and she closed her iPad, already missing her lost solitude.
“Same again, please, Nora,” Elizabeth said to the waitress.
“I haven’t seen you in here before,” Nora smiled down at him.
“This is Brendan, a reporter from The Examiner.”
Nora’s tired eyes lit up. “A reporter? How exciting.”
Brendan leaned back in his chair and basked in the unexpected attention.
“He’ll have an Americano and a scone, please,” Elizabeth interrupted, not in the mood for flirting at that hour of the morning.
“Coming right up.” Nora scurried away.
“Let’s skip the niceties and get straight to the point, shall we? What can I do for you, Brendan?”
“I need your help.”
“What sort of help?”
“I have a story.”
“It must be big news if you’re talking to me.”
“It’s big.”
She glanced at the envelope that sat tantalisingly between them, and silently cursed for showing an interest. “Spit it out!” she snapped.
“A letter was delivered to my office.”
“For you?”
“Yes, for me; it happens, occasionally. It arrived a few days ago. Only my editor and I know about it. We want to publish it, but first we want to check the facts.”
“And you’d like me to check them out?”
“Yes, if you’re interested.” He smirked.
“So I’d be a consultant?”
“You’d be our expert. You’d write a few background and follow-up pieces with your impressions and opinions. You’d be paid, of course.”
“Of course you’d bloody well pay me. I won’t write for your rag for less than twenty grand.”
“Don’t be daft.” He sat bolt upright. “That’s crazy money.”
“Okay, fifteen, but that’s my final offer.”
“My editor’s a reasonable man. He’ll be more than happy to offer you a fair deal.”
“Okay,” she said, relenting. “I’m interested but why me? I’m sure I wasn’t top of your list.” She averted her gaze from the sight of him stuffing a scone into his mouth as if it had been days since he’d last eaten, then again, maybe it had been days; he was certainly looking skinnier than usual.
“Someone you used to know sent the letter.” Time stood still. She knew what he was about to say. The name chimed in her head before his lips formed the words. “Ross Campbell aka Teardrop.” She glanced out the window at the rain and the dark streets, longing to close her eyes and make Brendan disappear. “Did you hear me?” He searched her face that had turned pale beneath her tan.
“I heard you.” She gulped her coffee, willing her face to return to normal. She looked at him over her cup, but he didn’t seem to realise that anything was wrong. For once, she was grateful for his stupidity.
“Do you remember him?” he asked.
“Of course I remember him. How could I forget?”
Nine years previously, she had arrested Ross Campbell on suspicion of the murder of five women in London. The killer had carved a teardrop on the victims’ faces and left a note with quotes from the Bible on their bodies, shoved inside their underwear or grazing their skin in a final, vicious act of intimacy.
Campbell was picked up in one of London’s notorious red light districts. Licence plate checks proved that he’d been in the area on the nights when two victims had disappeared, DNA evidence linked him to their deaths.
Predictably, he protested his innocence, hounding newspapers and some influential acquaintances with his plight, but he was charged with the murders. However, the prosecution’s case against him collapsed when Elizabeth was falsely accused of planting DNA evidence to secure a conviction.
When she won her case for defamation against The Met, she decided to retire to Ireland, where she had spent many happy childhood summers. Shortly afterwards, Campbell vanished, and no one had heard from the killer known as Teardrop, until now.
“Ross Campbell is dead,” she said, realising that the silence had gone on too long.
“Vanished isn’t the same as dead,” Brendan replied.
“Nobody’s seen or heard from him in almost a decade. People like Campbell are noticed, whatever they do; they can’t help it. Someone somewhere would have seen him.”
“Maybe not. I’ve read about serial killers lying dormant for years.”
“Trust me, serial killers can’t stop killing.”
“Not according to the letter.” He pushed the envelope towards her. “Apparently, he’s alive and well.”
“Does it explain why he’s suddenly reappeared?”
“He wants to set the record straight.”
“Why did he contact you?”
He looked at her indignantly. Elizabeth stifled a smile. She knew all about the book on serial killers that Brendan had recently written, but she wanted to see him squirm. The book was mostly sensation and an insight into Brendan’s uninspired mind. “He wants to correct some facts in my book and he wants us to publish his letter.”
She burst out laughing. “Are you seriously planning on having a serial killer write a column in your newspaper? Maybe he should take over the problem page. I know: he could be your new resident agony uncle.”
“Keep it down,” he hissed, glancing over his shoulder at Nora who was busy behind the counter. “We need to keep this quiet for now.”
“I suppose it’s good publicity for your book.” She gazed out the window at the city that was slowly coming to life. The first of the early-morning commuters were venturing out. “What else is in the letter?”
“He says he’ll kill again.”
“Any details?”
“He gave a name.”
“Does he say when or where?”
“Not really. The letter’s vague, but he says it will happen in Cork.”
“Have you taken the letter to the police?”
“Not yet. It could be a hoax. Don’t look at me like I’m some moron. This is a good story. We’ll pass it on to the police when we’re ready.”
“How do I fit into your little plan?”
“We’d like you to read the letter and tell us if it’s genuine. You know Campbell.”
“I knew him: past tense.”
“Okay, you knew him. Sorry. You knew him better than most. Read the letter and tell us if it’s him, that’s all we want to know.” He paused, waiting for her reply, but she wasn’t going to make it easy for him. Besides, his use of “we” and “us” was starting to irritate her. Clearly, he was getting too friendly with “the powers that be”, as he liked to call them. If it meant so much to him, she’d make him beg.
“Please, Elizabeth. Will you read it?”
“I’ll think about it, that’s all I’m promising. Call me later.”
“It’ll be worth your while. This is front-page news. There’ll be big money in it for all of us.”
“I thought you weren’t sure about printing it yet.”
“Well, you know how it goes.”
She knew.
“I have to go.” She stood up and pulled on her black parka. She was tall and striking. Her dark looks, which she’d inherited from her Italian mother, made her exotic among the mostly pale-skinned, freckled Irish. Her nose was slightly crooked from a childhood accident, and there was an edginess about her, like a bird about to swoop on its prey.
“Don’t forget the letter.” He picked it up reverently. “Promise you won’t show it to anyone?”
“Of course I won’t show it to anyone.” She reached for the envelope in irritation.
“Promise me?”
“I promise. Give me the bloody envelope.”
He handed it to her solemnly, and she grabbed it, stuffing it unceremoniously into her cavernous bag. She tossed her long, black hair over her shoulder and went outside into the rain, leaving Brendan to pay.
She sensed him watching as she forced herself not to run. There were only a few more steps before she turned the corner, out of sight. No one believed that Campbell was dead because only she knew the truth. Campbell had haunted her from the last moment she had seen him. He wasn’t coming back. He was dead, and she knew it because she’d killed him herself.

 

 

 

 

Joanne Clancy is a Kindle All-Star and an Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award quarter-finalist. Joanne is an Irish mystery writer, from Cork, Ireland. She is an avid reader, a self-confessed Kindle addict, and a tea fiend!

Her books combine murder, mystery, and suspense with a twist of psychological drama.

Her crime books have consistently hit the Amazon paid bestseller lists in Crime, Thrillers & Mystery.

Joanne’s latest release is TEAR DROP (Detective Elizabeth Ireland Crime Thriller Series, Book 1). She is currently working on her twenty-sixth book, INSINCERE (Detective Elizabeth Ireland Crime Thriller Series, Book 2) which is available to pre-order now at Amazon and will be released in October 2015.

Sign up for Joanne’s mailing list at JoanneClancy.com to receive three best-selling mystery books for FREE!

BOOKS BY JOANNE CLANCY
**Crime Novels:
*Tear Drop (Detective Elizabeth Ireland, Book 1)
*Insincere (Detective Elizabeth Ireland, Book 2)

*Open Your Eyes
*Return to Me
*I Should Have Told You
*Before I’m Gone
*The Gift
*The Detective’s Wife
*If You Tell Anyone
*Traceless

*Killing Time
*Watched
*A Daughter’s Secret
*Killer Friends
*Shattered
*The Offering

**Romance Novels
*The Unfaithful Series:
*Unfaithfully Yours
*Revenge
*Web of Deceit

*The Secrets & Lies Trilogy:
*Secrets & Lies
*Aftermath
*Redemption

*Unforgettable Embrace
*The Wedding Day

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Rockstar’s Email Order Bride Book Blitz @DemelzaCarlton @BookEnthuPromo

Book Title: The Rock Star’s Email Order Bride
Author: Demelza Carltonthe rock stars emailorder bride banner

 

Mail Order bride v3

Genre: New Adult Rock Star Romance
Release Date: September 15, 2015
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

Goodreads Button with Shadow

Book Blurb

In the final year of her business degree, Phuong has her future all mapped out. Finish studying, then go home and save her family’s business. Until her father dies and it all falls apart. Broke and jobless, she stumbles on a solution: find herself an Australian husband. Fast.

She’s not looking for love – Phuong doesn’t believe in fairy tales. Her marriage will be a business deal, pure and simple. But when she meets her husband-to-be and discovers he’s a reclusive rock star living at Romance Island Resort, maybe it’s time to believe a girl can live happily ever after.

excerpt

Jason didn’t wait for the rotors to stop before he leaped out of the helicopter door and sprinted for the hotel entrance.

“Welcome to Romance Island Resort, sir. Enjoy your stay!” came the pilot’s voice behind him, but Jason wasn’t listening.

He burst through the door and skidded to a stop in front of the Reception desk. “Where’s Audra?” Jason demanded. She was the only girl who could make him forget Angel. The only girl who could make this right. He needed her. Now.

The blonde girl at Reception stared at him. “We don’t have anyone named Audra here, sir.”

“Of course you do. Best maid I ever met. Tell her I’m here, and to meet me at my accommodation. I had Villa Maxima last time. The one with the huge spa tub in the bathroom. And make sure we have plenty of mango beer. Mangoes are her favourite.”

A second girl sidled behind the Reception desk next to the blonde. She looked Japanese, but her accent had Aussie overtones as she asked, “Did you say Audra? She was mad about mangoes. I bet Audra’s missing those now she’s in Antarctica.”

Jason laughed. “Antarctica? Don’t be ridiculous.” He turned his eyes back to the blonde. “Can you let her know I’m here?”

She looked lost until her eyes fixed on someone behind Jason. “Oh, Mr Meier, this man’s looking for Audra. He doesn’t believe that she’s gone.”

An older man with a professional smile held out his hand. “Good morning, Mr ah – “

“Felix. Jason Felix.” Jason’s firm handshake almost crushed the other man’s fingers in his eagerness. “Where’s Audra?”

“Like Hana said, she’s in Antarctica, Mr Felix. Audra no longer works here.”

Jason’s heart plummeted. No Caitlin, no Audra…what was a rock star supposed to do.

Teasers

Resist

Respectable med res

 

Meet the Author

Demelza Carlton has always loved the ocean, but on her first snorkelling trip she found she was afraid of fish.

She has since swum with sea lions, sharks and sea cucumbers and stood on spray-drenched cliffs over a seething sea as a seven-metre cyclonic swell surged in, shattering a shipwreck below.

Sensationalist spin? No – Demelza tends to take a camera with her so she can capture and share the moment later; shipwrecks, sharks and all.

Demelza now lives in Perth, Western Australia, the shark attack capital of the world.

Social Media

websiteblognewsletter signuptwitterFacebookyou tubepinterestGoogleGoodreads

Buy the Book

Mail Order bride v3

amazon usamazon UKB&NsmashwordsiBooks

Other Books in the Series

Maid for the Rock Star ebook cover

amazon usamazon UKB&NsmashwordskoboiBooks

BEPRectangle

Heaven Sent Cover Reveal @AvelynPaige @SaintNSinBooks

 Heaven Sent

by Avelyn Paige

Heaven’s Rejects MC Series

 
Capture5
3D Heaven Sent

 
Bloody…broken…barely surviving…
Danae “Dani” Espinoza is on the run and desperate to escape the demons of her past. Plans to hide out in a sleepy Los Angeles suburb turn into a pipe dream as she is drawn into the secret filled world of the local motorcycle club. Dani soon learns that her secrets and lies are nothing compared to those kept behind the clubhouse doors. Trying to avoid the suspicious Vice President, she must keep a low profile in order to survive. The trouble is he has other ideas. 

Bike…babes…and booze…
Tyler “Hero” Tobias has simple needs. Being the Heaven’s Rejects MC Vice President, he has all three at his disposal. But he has his own ghosts that keep him awake at night. When Dani arrives at the clubhouse, he knows he should stay away but there is something about her dark beauty and the mystery that surrounds her that makes him burn. There are secrets in her eyes and lies in her smile and he knows he should put his club first, but Hero’s heart and loyalty are about to be tested. 

Can an angel with blood-covered wings and the devil himself resist temptation or will they risk bringing hellfire down on everything that they love?
 
 
Cold. All I can feel is a deep chill blanketing my body. My eyes open to complete darkness as a voice calls to me. Its muffled tones send shivers down my spine with every garbled word. A sense of familiarity floats around me as its words become clearer. “Run, Dani,” it pleas from beyond the black veil shrouding the room. “Escape while you can,” it continues. Panic courses through my veins. Where in the hell am I? Why can’t I see anything? The pleas go unanswered as my voice fails to render sound.
 
“Help!” I scream internally, “Please, f*cking help me!”
 
The voice’s call fades with each word. “You need to get the hell out of here, Dani. You need to move. Find a wall and escape,” I coach to myself. A cold chill of air sweeps into the darkness encompassing me as I try to feel the place around me. My fingers plunge into a dense, sticky liquid as I crawl forward causing my body to slide with each movement. A hard surface is finally inching its way under my fingers.
 
Crawling upwards, I splay my hands against the cool wall. “You’re on your feet, Dani. The hardest part is over now. Time to find a door or a light switch, something to get us out of here,” my internal coach continues.
 
Keeping close to the wall, I finally find a switch. Flicking it upwards, the light shines brilliantly. As my eyes adjust to the light, my hands come into my vision. A scream barrels out of my throat when I see the sticky, red blood covering my hands and clothes. My heart races as I frantically wipe
the blood away. Blood begins to pool at my feet, inching toward me. Rushing away from the blood, I fall backward into a solid, but warm obstacle. Before I can turn around, hands grasp my arms as a person’s hot breath trails down my neck.
“Hello, Dani,” a different voice whispers in my ear. “Welcome to Hell. You’re mine now,” the voice crackles as my body is pulled into black oblivion. 

pizap.com14413150750341
Avelyn Paige is a born and raised Indiana girl. She may be a Hoosier by birth, but she’s a Boilermaker by choice! Avelyn lives in rural Indiana with her pastor husband, 2 spoiled cats, and one very odd looking dog. She’s an oncology research scientist by day and a writer and book review blogger by night. She enjoys reading anything she can get her hands, baking, and spending time with her friends and family. 

Never intending to ever write her own book, the idea behind the Damaged series came to her on a drive to work early one morning thinking about her father who’d recently passed away. His strength during his cancer and rare blood disease battle inspired Avelyn to do something she’s never thought about before. She’s excited to see where this wild ride takes her. 

 

Fugly Book Tour @MimiJeanRomance @GoddessFish

FUGLY

by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

 

MBB_TourBanner_Fugly copy

 

ROOM WITH BOOKS encourages our readers to follow the tour and leave comments.

 

GENRE:  Contemporary Romance

 

About the Book

My name is Lily Snow. I am twenty-five years old, and despite being born with an unattractive face, I have never doubted who I am: smart, driven, and beautiful on the inside.

Until I met Maxwell Cole.

He’s handsome, excessively wealthy, and the owner of Cole Cosmetics. It’s been my dream to work for this man for as long as I can remember. The good news is he wants to hire me. The bad news is he wants me for all the wrong reasons. Ugly reasons.

In exchange, he’s offered me my dreams on a silver platter. The job. The title. A beautiful future. But this man is as messed up and ugly as they come on the inside. I’m not sure anyone can help him, and he just might take my heart down with him.

MediaKit_BookCover_Fugly

 

Excerpt

“You’re not qualified.” He threw the sheet of paper on the table and shot me a harsh look before abruptly standing.

“But I—”

“Thank you for coming,” he said in a tone that told me he wasn’t thankful at all. More like put out, annoyed, maybe pissed off.

My mouth hung open as he walked out of the tiny conference room, not bothering to shake my hand or look at me or hear anything I had to say.

My emotions fell somewhere between epic rage and heartbreak. He’d treated me like a leper or some mangy dog with rabies. And as my mind quickly digested everything that happened in the last sixty seconds, I could only come up with one reason for his behavior: my looks. And, hell no, I wasn’t crazy or making it up. That expression on his face when he’d walked in the door? The way he’d shaken my hand?

I covered my face and let out a shaky breath. This can’t be happening. I expected this sort of behavior from a shallow, pompous asshole that only valued women for their beauty, but from Maxwell Cole?

My mind went into a tailspin of anger, despite my conscience urging me to take the high road—a road I knew like the back of my hand. After all, I was a nice, caring person. I didn’t yell at people—or hadn’t in years. But that had been back in school, and only when some jerk decided to mess with one of my painfully shy friends or my disabled brother.

But you can’t let Maxwell Cole do this, Lily. I’d worked my ass off to have the right experience for a job like this. Okay, yes, I had other options besides C.C.—I wasn’t stupid or naïve enough to put all my eggs in one basket—but those other companies weren’t Cole Cosmetics. They weren’t companies I related to and believed in. Those other companies didn’t tell the world you were beautiful for who you were on the inside and to buy their products simply because you enjoyed pampering yourself. Cole Cosmetics didn’t believe in making women feel ugly to sell makeup. And that’s exactly what inspired me to work in this industry. We all deserved to feel beautiful and have nice things regardless of what others thought about our looks.

Only that prick has been lying to the world.

 

About the Author

Remy Pamfiloff
Remy Pamfiloff

New York Times and USA Today bestselling Romance author, host of the radio talk show, Man Candy, on Radioslot.com.

When San Francisco native Mimi Jean went on an adventure as an exchange student to Mexico City, she never imagined the journey would lead to writing Romance. But one MBA, one sexy husband, and two rowdy kids later, Mimi would trade in corporate life for vampires, deities, and snarky humor.

She continues to hope that her books will inspire a leather pants comeback (for men) and that she might make you laugh when you need it most.

She also enjoys interacting with her fans (especially if they’re batshit crazy). You can always find her chatting away on Facebook, Twitter, or saying many naughty words on her show MAN CANDY on Radioslot.com!

Find out more about Mimi and upcoming books at http://www.mimijean.net.

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/MimiJeanPamfiloff

Twitter – https://twitter.com/MimiJeanRomance

Tsu – https://www.tsu.co/mimijeanpamfiloff

Newsletter – http://bit.ly/1ULsBW8

 

Giveaway

The author will award 5 winners via Rafflecopter a signed copy of FUGLY + FUGLY Tote + Key Chain, Magnet, Bookmark, and Bumper Sticker

a Rafflecopter giveaway//widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js

 

Keeping What’s His Release Blast @Jamie_Begley @TastyBookTours

Enter to Win a 
Porter Brothers Mug & $5.00 Amazon eGift Card
KEEPING WHAT’S HIS
Porter Brothers Trilogy #1
Jamie Begley
Releasing September 29th, 2015
Young Ink Press
The Porter Brother’s were raised to live and die by Three Rules 
One, a Porter stands his ground 
Two, a Porter leaves no enemy standing
Three…
 
Sutton Creech was a cheat and a liar. Tate Porter had found that out when he was eighteen, and he had no intention of letting her make a fool out of him again. He didn’t care how much pain he saw in her eyes or how old memories tugged at his unforgiving heart until, the night a hidden secret is revealed and everything Tate had believed about their past is shattered, proving he had let the woman he loved get away.
 
Between trying to protect his family and running their pot growing business, Tate doesn’t have time to play the “Nice Guy”. He’d just
have to remember the most important rule his father had given them: A Porter always keeps what’s his.


BUY NOW

“How long you staying?”

“I haven’t made up my mind yet,” Sutton answered.

“Your parents must be glad you’ve come home for a visit.”

Sutton remained quiet as she turned back to the door, placing her hand on the door knob. “Thanks again for helping me inside.”

Tate’s brow rose at her abrupt dismissal. Going back through the door, he placed a hand on it before she could close it behind him.

“I wouldn’t stay out here too late. It’s not safe,” he warned.

This time, it was her turn to lift a brow in his direction. “Don’t tell me you’re still growing weed and keeping poachers away.”

Tate’s face flushed angrily. “When did you become a bitch?”

Sutton gave him a mocking smile. “I’m not eighteen anymore.”

His eyes roved over her body insultingly. “No, you’re not. I hope you’re not planning on seeing Cash while you’re in town. He’s married to Rachel now, and I don’t want you causing trouble for my sister.”

“I know, and I have no intention of seeking out Cash.” Sutton lost her smile. Cash wasn’t why she was here.

“Good. They’re happy, and they don’t need you trying to stir up trouble.”

“Since you want to talk straight, I’ll reciprocate. I’ll repeat what I said: I have no intention of seeing Cash. I won’t say it was good seeing you again, Tate, because it wasn’t.” Sutton slammed the door and locked it. She held her breath, listening for sounds from the other side of the door. It was several minutes before she heard him walking away.

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway
//widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js

 

 

“I was born in a small town in Kentucky. My family began poor, but worked their way to owning a restaurant. My mother was one of the best cooks I have ever known, and she instilled in all her children the value of hard work, and education.
Taking after my mother, I’ve always love to cook, and became pretty good if I do say so myself. I love to experiment and my unfortunate family has suffered through many. They now have learned to steer clear of those dishes. I absolutely love the holidays and my family puts up with my zany decorations.
For now, my days are spent writing, writing, and writing. I have two children who both graduated this year from college. My daughter does my book covers, and my son just tries not to blush when someone asks him about my books.
Currently I am writing five series of books- The Last Riders, The VIP Room, Predators MC, Biker Bitches, and The Dark Souls.
All my books are written for one purpose- the enjoyment others find in them, and the expectations of my fans that inspire me to give it my best.”

The Legend of Lyon Redmond Release Blast @julieannelong @TastyBookTours

Enter to Win a
$50.00 eGift Card to Choice Book Seller
or
Complete Print Set of the Pennyroyal Green Series

 

THE LEGEND OF LYON REDMOND
Pennyroyal Green #11
Julie Anne Long
Releasing Sept 29th, 2015
Avon Books

 

 
Bound by centuries of bad blood, England’s two most powerful families maintain a veneer of civility…until the heir to the staggering
Redmond fortune disappears, reviving rumors of an ancient curse: a Redmond and an Eversea are destined to fall disastrously in love once per generation.
An enduring legend
Rumor has it she broke Lyon Redmond’s heart. But while many a man has since wooed the dazzling Olivia Eversea, none has ever won her—which is why jaws drop when she suddenly accepts a viscount’s proposal. Now London waits with bated breath for the wedding of a decade…and wagers on the return of an heir.
An eternal love
It was instant and irresistible, forbidden…and unforgettable. And Lyon—now a driven, dangerous, infinitely devastating man—decides it’s time for a reckoning. As the day of her wedding races toward them, Lyon and Olivia will decide whether their love is a curse destined to tear their families part…or the stuff of which legends are made.
 
BUY NOW
Amazon | B&N | iTunes | Kobo
Excerpt-Banner

Three weeks later …

Olivia Eversea sighed in the soothing, well-sprung recesses of her family’s barouche, grateful for the solitude if only for the duration of the drive from St. James Square to the Strand.

It was perhaps an acknowledgment of how insufferable she’d been lately that her family had let her go to Madame Marceau’s alone.

The discussion over whether she ought to have silver trim on her wedding dress, like poor Princess Charlotte, or perhaps even beading along the hem, which would be much more expensive, but wouldn’t she just glow like an angel (her mother’s words) in it, had become absurdly impassioned, and subtle insults may even have flown, and her even-tempered sister, Genevieve, may even have slammed a door. Or, rather, shut it emphatically, which was close as Genevieve ever came to throwing a tantrum.

Minutes of sullen silence later, they had fallen into each other’s arms, all apologies.

Olivia knew she was being difficult and prickly and she was somehow skillfully bringing out the worst in everyone she knew, herself most particularly. She was doing all of them a mercy by taking herself off to the modiste’s alone.

And she still didn’t know what kind of trim she wanted.

Did no one see the irony in choosing the same trim as the poor doomed Princess Charlotte, who had married the man she wanted to marry, rather than the man her father preferred her to marry? She had promptly then died horribly in childbirth, casting all of England into mourning.

Olivia wondered how many parents in England used Charlotte as a cautionary tale. See what awaits you if you don’t listen to me?

Olivia was satisfied that she, at long last, had made a sensible choice from the years of suitors. Everyone in her family approved of him.

She peered out the window as the Eversea barouche rolled through the noisy, colorful, lively throngs of the Strand. Pye men and puppeteers and costermongers and pickpockets wove in and out of gorgeously dressed men and women aglow with wealth and flawless breeding. The Strand’s lively dissonance would resonate nicely with her mood and she expected to find it soothing. And she liked Madame Marceau’s shop, she truly did. It was a hushed, feminine paradise. It was just that she’d had so many fittings she’d begun to feel a bit like a calf being measured for chops.

She was to have silk petticoats and fine lawn night rails, traveling dresses and walking dresses and riding habits, gloves both kid and cotton, stockings both silk and woolen, ball gowns in silks and satins in glowing, muted jewel tones, along with fascinators and feathers and furbelows. It was a veritable avalanche of finery, or perhaps a bulwark of finery, she thought dryly, for surely abandoning it would inspire such crippling guilt that Olivia wouldn’t dream of fleeing?

Not only that, but nearly every relative from both sides of her family would be convening upon Pennyroyal Green, Sussex, in May, and there would be not only a wedding, but a ball. Reinforcements was what she called these relatives, but not out loud.

a Rafflecopter giveaway
//widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js

 

 

Julie Anne Long originally set out to be a rock star when she grew up, and she has the guitars and the questionable wardrobe stuffed in the back of her closet t prove it. When playing to indifferent crowds at midnight in dank clubs lost its, ahem, charm, she realized she could incorporate all of the best things about being in a band—namely, drama, passion and men with unruly hair—into novels, while at the same time indulging her love of history and research. So she made the move from guitar to keyboard (the computer variety) and embarked on a considerably more civilized, if not much more peaceful, career as a novelist.
Julie lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with a fat orange cat. (Little known fact: they issue you a cat the minute you become a romance novelist.)
 

Captured Book Blast @TerriJHaynes

banner

Author is giving away One (1) autograph copies of Captured, a magnet and a bookmark.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Book Title: Captured
ASIN: B015DTKUX4
Publication Date: September 22, 2015
Genre: Christian Fiction/Romantic Suspense
Author: Terri Haynes

cooltext1885521552
capturedcover4
FBI agent Will Anderson is working his last human trafficking case before he leaves his painful past. Social activist Savannah Elliott thinks she has escaped hers by helping human trafficking victims regain their freedom. When a case unites them, can they overcome their scars and find love.

cooltext1885520243

tjh_photo2015

Terri J. Haynes, a native Baltimorean, is a homeschool mom, writer, prolific knitter, freelance graphic artist and former Army wife (left the Army, not the husband). She loves to read, so much that when she was in elementary school, she masterminded a plan to be locked in a public library armed with only a flashlight to read all the books and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. As she grew, her love for writing grew as she tried her hand at poetry, articles, speeches and fiction. She is storyteller at heart. Her passion is to draw readers in the story world she has created and to bring laughter and joy to their lives.

Terri is a 2010 American Christian Fiction Writers Genesis contest finalist, and a 2012 semi-finalist. She is also a 2013 Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award Quarterfinalist. Her publishing credits include Cup of Comfort for Military Families, Crosswalk.com, the Secret Place Devotional, Urbanfaith.com, Vista Devotional, and Publisher’s Weekly.

Terri holds a Bachelor’s Degree in Theology, a Master’s degree in Theological Studies and a certificate in creative writing and graphic design, meeting the minimal requirements of being a geek. She and her husband pastor a church where she serves as executive pastor and worship leader. Terri lives in Maryland with her three wonderful children and her husband, who often beg her not to kill of their favorite characters.

cooltext1885522514
bn-icon

download (5)

cooltext1885522183

Website Facebook Twitter

Trailer

Tour hosted by Write Now Literary www.wnlbooktours.com

WNL banner

follow the tour

Contest ends: October 9, 2015 11:59 pm

Open: Internationally

Terms and Conditions: NO PURCHASE NECESSARY TO ENTER OR WIN. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW. A winner will be randomly drawn through the Rafflecopter widget and will be contacted by email within 48 hours after the giveaway ends. The winner will then have 72 hours to respond. If the winner does not respond within 72 hours, a new draw will take place for a new winner. Odds of winning will vary depending on the number of eligible entries received. This contest is in no way sponsored, endorsed or administered by, or associated with Facebook. This giveaway is sponsored by the author Terri J. Haynes and is hosted and managed by Paulette from Write Now Literary Book Tours. If you have any additional questions – feel free to send an email to Paulette @ pharperjohnson@gmail.com

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway