Monday, March 30, 2015

Gideon by Cherry Adair - Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Cherry will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

T-FLAC is back in an exciting action-adventure romance filled with danger, subterfuge and steamy, red-hot attraction.


Powerful cartel leader Sin Diaz lives a dangerous life filled with secrets and lies, and surrounded by people who claim to have known him all his life. Yet flashes of another life, totally unrelated to the jungles of Cosio, hang tantalizingly on the edges of his memory. He'll trust no one until he recalls his true past.


T-FLAC operative Riva Rimaldi's mission is simple. Go undercover, learn terrorist Escobar Maza's agenda, then kill him. But when the helicopter she's on crashes deep in the jungle of the small, volatile country of Cosio, she finds herself in the wrong hands. Is the sexy as hell leader of the ANSL, Sin Diaz, the enemy of her enemy, worse than Maza himself? Or is he someone entirely different than his reputation – and will he become her lover?


Sin and Riva must work together to stop a madman who will go to any lengths to attain his terrifying goal. But can they unravel the truth in time? The timer is ticking.

What they don’t know could get them killed.

Enjoy an excerpt:

T-FLAC operative Riva Rimaldi had a clear mental image of the chopper she was on: It was hurtling toward the ground, following a fiery explosion.

Five out of the six people on board would die. She was sorry she couldn't forewarn the two operatives accompanying her of their impending death. The warning would be useless and come too late. That was the bitch of her ability. When she received a vision, she knew precisely what would happen, but not precisely when. Even more of a bitch was that she while she could see the future, her ability to modify it was typically nonexistent. Riva had to let the nightmares that ran through her brain play out in real life.

She saw it as the pilot did. A bright, swiftly moving light headed up at them from the trees below.

“SAM.” Surface-to-air missile? Out here? In the middle of nowhere?

Curling into a ball around her duffel, one hand wrapped in the backpack’s straps, Riva braced for impact. She might as well kiss her ass good-bye. Despite what she'd seen, no one would survive the hit, and if she did, she’d wish she hadn't.

Between one heartbeat and the next, the missile slammed the tail with a loud, fiery explosion, spinning what was left of the chopper end over end. A blast furnace of heat engulfed her as she was thrown around the cabin like a rag doll. Everything gyrated like a kaleidoscope around her, as if she were separate from the event. In the split second when rational thought was possible, Riva knew she couldn't jump out. Even if she had a chute, which she didn't, she'd be sliced and diced like chopped salad by the swiftly spinning blades if she attempted it.

I’m screwed.

Primal fear set in and all she could do was scream as she, and what was left of the burning chopper, hurtled uncontrollably toward the trees.

About the Author:
New York Times/USAToday Bestselling author Cherry Adair’s innovative action-adventure novels have appeared on numerous bestsellers lists, won dozens of awards and garnered praise from reviewers and fans alike. With the creation of her kick butt counterterrorist group, T-FLAC, years before action adventure romances were popular, Cherry has carved a niche for herself with her sexy, sassy, fast-paced, action adventure novels. She hates first drafts, has a passion for mentoring unpublished writers, and is hard at work on a new T-FLAC trilogy. Cherry loves to hear from readers.

Visit her on:

Facebook -
Tsu -
Website -

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Friday, March 27, 2015

A Spacious Life by Narissa Doumani - Guest Blog and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Narissa will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Five Things You Might Not Know About Narissa Doumani

1. As a child I played with Barbie dolls, but also with He-Man figurines and Matchbox cars. Some people tell me it’s because I’m a Gemini and like the balance of two sides to everything… but I think I was just lucky to have parents who did their best not to force gender stereotypes onto me.

2. I’m quite messy. Especially around my workspace. Especially when I’m getting creative. From the way I dress and speak, people tend to think I’m a neat and orderly person. But they haven’t seen my desk! I seem to thrive on finding a point of clarity through chaos. Perhaps my desk is a metaphor for my life in that way. My memoir is all about finding peace within, even when life feels like it doesn’t make sense and challenges get thrown at you from all directions.

3. Although I’ve worked as a model, I have a very low-maintenance beauty routine. It’s always felt like a waste of time to fuss about too much with my appearance. When I’m working, that’s another story; I could sit in the makeup artist’s chair for hours if I had to and it wouldn’t worry me in the slightest. And if I have to go to a wedding or some other significant event I’ll take longer, but in general I like to be done getting ready in ten minutes or so.

4. My friends all think I love baking. I’m known as the one who brings cookies and brownies and cake. While they’re not wrong, because I do love it when I bake for them, I never have the inclination to bake when there’s no one around to share it with. It’s not the baking itself that I adore, it’s more that I love making something others will enjoy; it feels like giving them a piece of my love, because I’ve put time and energy into creating it. I won’t lie, though—I do also enjoy the eating…

5. I consider myself a social introvert. What that means to me is that while I love and thrive on being socially connected, I also recognize the need for regular time to myself to recharge my batteries. In my experience, meditation is the ultimate battery supercharger (not only for introverts, though!), and my mindfulness practice keeps me balanced and grounded, even when I have to be very busy dealing with people all day.

‘Meditation and mindfulness are tools for working with the mind, but where they have led me is to a blossoming of the heart…’

What does a spiritual seeker look like? Could you pick one in a lineup? If you said yes, chances are you weren’t imagining this meditating model. Born in Sydney, Australia, Narissa Doumani grew up well loved, well educated, and (reasonably) well dressed, but for years grappled with what she admits is ‘the ultimate first world problem’: how to be truly, deeply happy in any lasting way. In this intimate memoir, she explores the creative process, traverses the heights of romantic love and the despair of self-doubt, and comes face to face with her own fragile mortality. But it’s in a cave in a Thai forest, where she meets the Buddhist yogi who will become her spiritual guide, that she learns to unravel the messy states of mind and heart that had kept her from living a spacious life—and thereby begins to uncover the happiness, meaning, and connection for which she always yearned.

A Spacious Life is a heart-warming, honest, and at times surprisingly humorous look into the quest for meaning beyond materialism—and its relevance as an essential condition for well-being and fulfilment within modern-day life.

Enjoy an excerpt:

I began to set aside specific times when being present was the only agenda. Every night before bed, I rolled out a yoga mat and stretched out. It was an offering to my body, a penance of sorts. I watched the feeling as my arms and legs lengthened. I watched the sensation of blood rushing to my head in inverted poses. I watched my breath. There was always my breath, pure and rhythmic.

I caught fleeting glimpses of stillness, and they were divine. Serenity flowed outward from the source, my place of inner calm, until it reached the tips of my fingers and my toes. As it flowed, I could feel my entire body being healed and nourished. I became strong and supple as I continued my practice each night. I stood with the sturdiness of a stone statue in Warrior Stance. In Tree Pose I embodied the very balance of nature, until my legs gave out.

I committed to a secret practice; I became an avid watcher of moments. Everything was an opportunity to be present within the present. In the classroom, I tried to focus my attention with my students instead of letting it wander off with stray thoughts. Sitting on the train, I did my best to resist letting my mind-stream carry me away. Old habits die hard, but day in and day out I kept practising.

Hundreds of times I failed, and caught myself wrapped up in a mental story; in those instances I simply started anew, calmly bringing my attention back to the present moment. The world could keep spinning its distractions, but my mind didn’t have to rush out to meet them; coming home to my body and my breath, I learned how to be the eye of the storm.

About the Author:
Narissa Doumani is the student of a reclusive Thai yogi, and a dedicated practitioner of mindfulness, meditation, and the Buddhist path. After graduating with a Bachelor of Science from the University of Melbourne, Narissa spent nearly a decade working as a model and presenter in the world of commercial advertising, using the circumstances of her everyday life to cultivate clarity and peace of mind. Born into a Thai-Lebanese-Australia family, she is a strong advocate for diversity, tolerance, and finding one's own authentic path. Her debut memoir, A Spacious Life, invites us all to do just that, and to live with meaning beyond the material.

Author Website:
Kirkus Review:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Thursday, March 26, 2015

Contract to Wed by Holly Bush - Spotlight and Giveaway

3_9 BBT_TourBanner_ContractToWed

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Holly will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

3_9 BookCover_ContractToWed1891 . . . Jolene Crawford Crenshaw, heiress and Boston socialite, went from her family home directly to Landonmore upon her marriage, the mansion she shared with her handsome and charismatic husband. She’d never in her life worried in the slightest over anything as crass as the dollars required to maintain that home or the lifestyle she’d been born to. Her extensive yearly wardrobe, the stables and the prime horseflesh within it, even the solid silver forks and knifes that graced her table, were expected and required to maintain the social standing that she’d cultivated over the years. But suddenly she was a widow with little money and just her pride and her secrets to keep her upright.

Max Shelby made his fortune in oil wells and cattle, but lost the love of his life the day his wife died. Now, his happy, carefree daughter needs instruction and guidance as she grows into a young lady and his dream of becoming a Senator from his adopted state of Texas seems out of reach with few political or social connections. The right wife would solve both problems. As it happens, his sister knows of a woman, a recent widow, charming, beautiful and socially astute, but in reduced circumstances, who may want to begin again. Max signed the wedding contract sight unseen.

Will Jolene be able to shed her sorrows, anger and fears to begin anew away from the censure and hidden tragedy that marred her life? Is her new husband, confident, strong and capable Max Shelby, the man, the only man, to see past her masks to find the woman beneath?

Enjoy an excerpt:

Max walked slowly to where a woman, dressed in black, was directing several porters stacking multiple trunks and luggage. It was a detail he’d not thought of. He turned to the depot manager who was watching the porters himself.

“Can you get word to the Shaw Brothers to get over here with one of their wagons?”

The manager nodded and hurried to his depot, and Max turned back. Apparently finished, four porters stood behind rows and stacks of luggage and trunks, staring up at the train. The woman dressed in black was waiting, and the conductor stood to the side of the metal steps between the cars. He lifted his hand up and at the top of those three steps appeared a tall, slender woman. She was dressed from head to toe in the palest blue, starting with the tilted, wide-brimmed hat, to her jacket trimmed in black roping to her bustled skirts. She extended a foot shod in a pale blue satin slipper and accepted the conductor’s outstretched hand.

At first glance, she was stunning and sophisticated and sure of herself. And he was certain she was his wife. He walked to her and held out his hand.

“Mrs. Jolene Shelby?”

She turned her head slowly. “Mr. Maximillian Shelby?”

He bowed his head and touched his hat. “At your service, ma’am.”

She put a gloved hand in his, and he was immediately aware of her. He could smell a musky rose scent and felt the pressure of her hand in his as she came down the last two steps.

3_9 AuthorPhoto_ContractToWedAbout the Author: Holly Bush writes historical romance set on the American Prairie, in Victorian England, and recently released her first Women’s Fiction title. Her books are described as emotional, with heartfelt, sexy romance. She makes her home with her husband in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.


Buy the book at Amazon.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Chasing the Other Tisdale by Jessica Jefferson - Excerpt and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Jessica will be awarding a $10 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

She’s the other sister…

Overshadowed by the beauty of her older sister, Lillian is better known as the other Tisdale; unremarkable and unsure how she will ever deliver on the promise of her family's name.

He’s a rake in need of reforming…

Will Colton leads a frivolous existence, embracing notoriety instead of managing his family’s fortune. Determined to forget his financial burden and his father’s growing resentment, he maintains a lifestyle dedicated to pleasure and self-indulgence. When Will is invited to the Tisdale estate for an extended holiday, he never expects to become friends with the forgettable Lillian. But when a family secret comes to light, he must choose between leaving London and protecting the honor of one woman or staying and risking the reputation of another.

Upon his return, Will finds the girl he left behind has come out of the shadows and into her own. Lillian’s finally the center of attention, and not all of it good. With his own reputation in tatters, can a reformed rake lure her out of the hands of London's bachelors and back into his own arms? Can he escape his past and reclaim her heart, or has he lost her forever?

Read an exclusive excerpt:


The sound startled her and she dropped her charcoal. Lilly narrowed her gaze and looked around the garden, half-expecting Tamsin to jump out at any moment and scare her half to death.

Lilly set her sketch pad to the side and stood up, her heart still beating madly. As soon as she found the ginger-haired menace, she planned on giving her a proper wallop.

“Up here.”

Lilly looked up and saw the unmistakable figure of a man. She gasped, her pulse bounding in her ears. The sun was high and from her position she could only make out his outline. She shielded her eyes from the light and the shape slowly started to become discernible.

Suddenly, she was nauseous.

“Lord Colton! How did you get in here?” The wall was nearly eight feet tall surrounding the back gardens.

He looked down at her from his branch. “I scaled the wall and then made my way up this tree.”


Will held his hand up, stopping her mid-sentence. “I used to be quite good at sneaking into places, climbing walls, trellises, whatever it took. Apparently, I never lost the skill. I’m a little rusty, but not half bad if I do say so myself.”

She hated to think about just how many bedrooms he’d snuck into over the years to have grown so accomplished in a skill that had so little respectable applications. Lilly looked around, validating that she was indeed alone. “You must leave at once.” If she were found alone with him ...

“Aren’t you going to ask what I’m doing here?”

Lilly pressed her hand against her forehead. Was she feverish again? She looked up and found him smiling smugly down at her. “I don’t really care why you’re here, only that you leave straight away.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“No,” she argued. “You most certainly can. Just climb down from there, then leave the premises in the exact manner as you arrived. See—quite simple, indeed.”

Will climbed off the branch and made his way down the tree, shimmying down the trunk to the ground next to Lilly. “I tried to call on you earlier.”

Lilly shrugged. “We were busy. It’s Tuesday, my sister Ambrosia keeps a tight schedule and we don’t see callers on Tuesdays.”

He crossed his arms across his chest. “So, I had no choice but to take more drastic measures.”

“You’ve completely lost your mind! What made you so sure I’d come out here anyways? For all you know, I could have been any one of my sisters. You’re lucky Tamsin wasn’t the one to find you.”

He averted her gaze, choosing to look at the ground instead of her.

Then she knew.

“You knew it would be me. You’ve been watching me!”

He held his hands up, as if defending himself from an expected blow. “Not really.”

Her eyes grew wide and he quickly tried to appease her. “I asked after you specifically, and the butler told me that you’d be busy for the rest of the day, that Tuesday afternoons you like to draw in the garden. I just happened to catch a glimpse of your hair-”

“Over the wall? You just happened to catch a peek of my hair over this wall?” She pointed behind her at the wall that towered over the man before her.

Will cleared his throat. “It may have been a bit more involved than simply peeking.”

“And?” she asked, gesturing for him to move along with his story.

“And when I didn’t see you here, I figured I’d just wait for you to come out.”

“In a tree?”

“I thought it held some sentimental value.”

She felt her nostrils flare. “Wrong tree!”

He shrugged. “I couldn’t just stand here and wait for someone to see me. I had to hide somewhere.”

“Yes, of course,” she wrapped her arms around her middle. “Because that’s exactly what any rational person would have done,” she bit back, her voice dripping sarcasm.

About the Author:
Jessica Jefferson makes her home in northern Indiana, or as she likes to think of it—almost Chicago. She is heavily inspired by classic sweeping, historical romance novels, but aims to take those key emotional elements and inject a fresh blend of quick dialogue and comedy. She invites you to visit her at and read more of her random romance musings. and
Like me at
Follow me at
Goodreads –
Amazon Author Page-

Chasing the Other Tisdale, Compromising Miss Tisdale, and Taming Miss Tisdale from Soul Mate Publishing, available now on Amazon!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

EMP by Wilson Harp - Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. One randomly drawn winner will be awarded a $25 Amazon/BN GC via Rafflecopter. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

In a flash of searing light, the world changed. A massive solar flare has crippled the modern world and brought chaos and destruction. David Hartsman is stuck in the remote farm town of his youth on what was expected to be a short visit to check on his ailing parents. While his wife and his daughter are hundreds of miles away at home in Chicago, David must face the dangers associated with his own survival and the pressures of not being with his family. In a worldwide catastrophe, every struggle is personal.

Enjoy an excerpt:

The rains came in little pulses over the next several days. Storms tore through the first night, darkening Kenton in a way I had never experienced. The northern lights were blocked out by the heavy clouds and the wind howled all the louder for the loss of sight.

The next two days saw a series of short showers. It brought plenty of fresh water to us, but delayed construction of individual latrines and outhouses. It also brought a melancholy that combined with worry and uncertainty.

A bright dawn greeted us on the third day and the sky looked clear in the north and west. The northern lights which had hung in the sky like specters the first two days were gone. Occasionally I would see a ribbon of color out of the corner of my eye, but it seemed more like a phantom feeling one would experience when they saw a bug and then lost track of it. A sensation would run along your leg or shoulder, but you knew it wasn’t really there.

Anne arrived about an hour after sunup with Clyde for me to ride. The gelding was starting to get used to me and for the first time seemed to recognize me as I approached.

“Not wearing your coat and hat today?” Anne asked. She smirked as she kept any tone of mocking out of her voice. I had been forced to wear an old jacket and baseball cap from my high school years during the last couple of days just to stay somewhat dry.

“No, it’s going to be a beautiful day,” I said.

About the Author:
Wilson Harp is a writer based out of the American Midwest. As a military brat, he traveled and met people from many cultures and backgrounds. Exposure to so many different views has led him to an appreciation of an eclectic collection of music, film and literature.

His sense of wonder at stories and folklore started young and continues to this day, often affecting the themes and ideas in his writing. In his works you will find the old fashioned ideas of virtue and honor as the lifeline that pulls many of his characters through the situations they often find themselves.

Buy the book at Amazon

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Monday, March 23, 2015

The Second Lie by Anna Richland - Excerpt and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Anna will be awarding a set of En Route notecards, gorgeously illustrated by Kate Pocrass (because falling in love with an Immortal Viking is a wild journey!) to a randomly drawn winner (INTERNATIONAL) via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

A woman desperate to achieve her dreams.

To reassure wealthy clients, Christina Alvarez Mancini invented a jet-setting British owner for her Napa Valley wine collection service. Success has brought her close to buying her own winery, when irregularities at a London wine auction threaten her business.

A man in love with a good plan.

Stig, an immortal Viking thief, knows he’s found the perfect role. The California woman who created his character won’t discover what he’s up to in England until after he’s pocketed the money he needs. Then Christina walks into the auction preview, ready to ruin his plans, and he knows his boredom has ended.

Secrets that turn deadly.

By the end of the night, these two rivals must cooperate to escape kidnappers, British authorities, media and a pair of mysterious watchers. That’s when a game Stig’s played for a thousand years puts Christina’s life at risk.

Can two people whose identities are based on lies trust each other enough to survive?

Enjoy an exclusive excerpt:

Stig and Christina’s third - or maybe it’s their fourth - escape in twenty-four hours needs a little celebration.

“I’m starving, but a nice restaurant?” She dropped her eyes to his stocking-clad legs. “You look like a Broadway chorus line on human growth hormone, and I look like an eighties music video. Nowhere decent would serve us. Not to mention the two guys we just escaped.”

“So little faith in my plan.” He opened the bag. “The car’s close enough to the local station—we arrived on the separate high-speed line—that they should conclude we moved on.” He handed her a plain white T-shirt and pulled a blue oxford wrapped in cleaner’s plastic out of the duffel. “Glad our friends were planning an overnight, but they certainly received the better set of clothing out of my car. This lot’s boring. We’ll turn into a rather dull-looking couple and catch the bus to Calais’s scenic centre-ville.”

She clutched the tee to her chest and looked at the backs of the tight-packed red-roofed houses bordering the alley. “You want me to change here?”

“Ditch the sweatshirt, and belt that with my scarf.” He unwrapped the green print length of silk from his neck. “You’ll look casual chic, or perhaps a little dotty, but not like the person on the train. Here, take my jewelry too.”

As she altered her outfit, he yanked his stockings down and swapped them for black pants from the duffel. Her fingers struggled to manipulate the clasp on the back of the necklace—it kept tangling in her hair—while Stig untied the front of the dress in order to zip and button the borrowed pants. They sagged on his lean hips and hung low enough to reveal the top of the tight underwear he’d worn beneath his dress.

In different circumstances, she might have found those tiny briefs disconcerting, but here they merely revealed exactly how flat and hard his stomach was.

Then he shed the wrap dress completely and folded it neatly into the duffel. “Too bad you’re not six inches taller, but I think you’d swim in this.”

She wasn’t looking at the purple fabric in his hand. No one would. Underneath he wore a spectacular seamless padded bra, black with a twinkling bow of fake black gems where the cups connected. She’d like a version of that bra herself, in a thirty-two instead of whatever size it took to span his chest and back. The casual familiarity of his ability to reach behind and unhook it with his arms in a chicken-wing position fascinated her. She wasn’t nearly as adept at maneuvering under her shirt to unhook and remove the compression wrap binding her breasts.

Her eyes were unreliable. Tiredness or perhaps the intimacy of their situation blurred the tan stone walls on either side, until it felt as if the two of them were in a different place. In her imagination, the dressing morphed into undressing. Instead of raising his zipper or buttoning the blue shirt, her mind played tricks that showed Stig unbuttoning his shirt and lowering his zipper, actions she’d already watched in the secret tunnel room.

It only took him minutes to transfer everything from the makeup case he’d brought into the stolen black duffel. “Ready?”

“You still have on—” She touched her own cheek, aware that his skin was rough and stimulating where her skin was smooth and vulnerable.

“Hand me a wipe from the bag.”

The cleansing wipes he’d brought were cool and moist, their fresh scent strong enough to smell in the alley. Without thinking, she reached up and he ducked and then she was running the wet fabric over his cheek, the tan pancake coming off in streaks filling the tissue. His head bent closer so she didn’t have to stretch, and he closed his eyes. As if he found it pleasurable.

She had never washed someone’s face before. Concentrating so hard on a man’s features, the crease from his nose to the corner of his mouth, the spot where his cheekbone blended into his sideburns, all of that acted on her as surely as grapes attracted yeast into beautiful symbiosis.

The only makeup left was his eye shadow and mascara. “I don’t want to sting your eyes.”

“Any pain won’t last.” His voice was low and scratchy instead of his usual polished tone. “It never does.”

She didn’t understand him, but nodded as if she did. The sparkles easily came off the bone under his eyebrow, revealing the tiniest of veins crisscrossing his skin. She extended her first finger and smoothed a few stray brow hairs, darker blond than the rest of his hair, to match the natural direction of his eyebrows.

The short hairs were silkier than their thickness suggested. Under the tip of her finger, his skin was warm. The hair lay flat, but she checked once more, her finger tracing the arc from the bridge of his nose toward his temple.

He didn’t make any audible sounds. Said nothing. Didn’t even seem to shift his weight where he stood leaning slightly toward her, but she sensed his pleasure as if he was a large cat under her hand.

By the time she dropped her arm, his eyelids and lashes looked like him again, and they stood close enough that the heat of his body reached her. The March afternoon was chilly in northern France, and a shiver flickered along her spine. One little step would bring her close enough to feel his warmth.

About the Author:
Anna lives with her quietly funny Canadian husband and two less quiet children in a century-old house in Seattle. The perpetual drizzle is a good excuse to drink more coffee. She’s a former US Army officer who now writes The Immortal Vikings series from Carina Press and also the author of His Road Home, a novella which Publishers Weekly called “Tantalizing … a raw, emotional story” and the website SmartB*tchesTrashyBooks gave an A rating.

She donates a portion of her book proceeds to two charities: the Fisher House Foundation, which provides housing for families of wounded soldiers in the US and Great Britain, and Doctors Without Borders, which delivers emergency medical care in more than sixty crisis zones world-wide.

To sign up for Anna's newsletter, find out more about her books, and read longer excerpts, please visit her website.

Connect with Anna Richland:

Anna’s Website:
Anna on Facebook:
Anna on Goodreads:

Buy the book at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iBooks, Kobo, Google Play, Goodreads, or Chapters Indigo.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Friday, March 20, 2015

Key to Lawrence by the Cargills - Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. A randomly drawn commenter via Rafflecopter will receive a historical, 100-year-old postcard of the Lusitania – a valuable collector's item. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Water rushed into the four, great smoke stacks of the ship as they, too, hit the waves. Tremendous, churning whirlpools sucked victims inside. A few were ejected, blackened with soot. Propellers rose above the maelstrom. The rudder lifted higher than the smoke stacks. The ship's prow pointed down toward the deep. It looked as if the ship's nose would hit the sea bed hundreds of feet below. The Lusitania sank in only 18 minutes after being torpedoed on May 7, 1915. Dora Benley vowed revenge on the enemy. Key to Lawrence tracks the beginning of her quest for justice in this special edition of the first volume of the Edward Ware Thriller Series. It commemorates the 100th anniversary of the Great War.

Enjoy an excerpt:

Manhattan — Saturday, May 1, 1915

The stranger stared at Dora’s package. A wide-brimmed hat shaded his face, revealing only a dark beard and mustache. Smoking a small, cheap, stubby cigar, dressed in a nondescript, ill-fitting dark suit, the man strutted towards her in a menacing fashion. Blueish-white cigar smoke curled upward in a lazy corkscrew. It vanished into the air several yards above his head.

Twenty-year-old Dora Benley quickly stuffed the surprise birthday gift for her father into her satchel. Holding a green parasol edged with black fringe over her head she skirted crowds of well-dressed, gossiping passengers waiting to board the Lusitania. Dressed in a full-length, aquamarine dress with white lace around the sleeves, Dora moved as far away from the intruder as she could without falling off the edge of the pier.

She searched impatiently for her parents. They were supposed to rendezvous with her at 11:00 AM. By now it was almost noon!

A man and woman reporting team burst upon the crowd at Cunard’s Pier 54. They were trailed by a photographer and his assistants carrying a large folding camera and a tripod. The reporters hurled themselves at the passengers.

“What do you think of the German announcement?” The male reporter thrust a copy of The New York Times at Dora. He pointed to the advertisement prominently displayed on the front page.

About the Author:
The Cargills docked at Southampton and explored the South of England in preparation for this thriller, Key to Lawrence. They also sailed the North Atlantic just like Dora Benley. But their transatlantic voyages were on the Queen Mary 2 instead of the Lusitania. They made use of the American Southwest where they live to depict the Syrian Desert that was home to Lawrence of Arabia. Visit their website. Read their blog. Linda also has a Facebook Fan Page.

Buy the book at Amazon.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Wednesday, March 18, 2015

Warrior Mine by Megan Mitcham - Spotlight and Giveaway

3_18 BBT_TourBanner_WarriorMine

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Megan will be awarding a $15 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

3_18 BookCover_WarriorMineWarrior Mine - Base Branch Novel 4

A silver fox learns new tricks.

The Base Branch office in Washington D.C. is so heavily fortified it makes Fort Knox look like a 7-Eleven. After twenty years in covert ops, nothing fazes Commander Vail Tucker. When a lightning bolt of feminine fury crashes into the interrogation room, holds him at gunpoint, and takes over the task with his prisoner, he’s more than surprised. She escapes without a trace, but Vail is unable to remain dispassionate. He must know what is so important the beguiling woman would risk her life to find it.

Carmen Ruez is deadly and desperate—a combustible combination. Born into the remnants of the Arellano Felix Organization, drugs and violence kept her in a gilded cage—until a twist of fate showed her the roots of their riches, making her yearn for freedom. She works for it. Fights for it. But her brother crosses the line to keep her loyal to the treacherous family she is determined to leave behind.

Following instinct, Vail uncovers Carmen's motives and is galvanized by a protective instinct he hadn't known he possessed. Determination and desire force them to work together to defeat those loyal to Carlos Ruez and the AFO. But are those traits enough to make them fight for a future together?

Enjoy an excerpt: She showed him her empty hands. His sweaty head shook. Droplets of his effort slung gently from his hair. “How is it you sneak up on me? Three times now. No one sneaks up on me. They try.” He heaved a breath and every slab of muscle flexed and never seemed to relax. It took a full minute of silence for her to realize he wasn’t holding his breath or holding himself at full tilt for battle. Those blessed grooves that lined a perfect—Santa MarĂ­a, was that eight—eight pack jammed between obliques worth drooling over.

“What is it, Carmen?”

Her name on his lips nearly toppled her down the three small steps in spite of the agitation suppressed in his tone. She grabbed the railing and made her way to the dirt, struggling to remember why exactly she’d come out in the first place.


At least some part of her fuzz-filled brain operated properly.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted.

“For what exactly?”

Her mouth moved to answer, but he walked forward, short-circuiting her synapses. Closer and closer he came until his chest nearly collided with her shoulder. She caught a gasp between her lips, just barely, as he reached around her to the shirt she hadn’t seen on the opposite railing. He dragged the cotton over his face and chest and then arched a brow, which she missed for a while, staring at the spray of nearly white scars and one vibrant pink ruck of angry skin.

She swallowed. “I’m so sorry for shooting you.”

“I don't blame you.” He stared at her and blotted at the sweat on his arms.

“How is that possible?” The slenderness of her voice translated her disbelief.

“I’d have shot you to save my family.”

“You have a family?” She didn’t know why the thought surprised her. He was a very desirable man. Handsome as red-hot sin. Kind as the Pope. Able as anyone she’d ever seen.

“Had,” he corrected.

Carmen’s heart stuttered and she rubbed at the ache. “I’m sor—”

He stopped her with the smallest shake of his head. He didn’t want her sympathy. Tough. He had it all the same. Though she’d had nightmares about it daily for the last few weeks, she couldn’t fathom loosing Sophia, much less a family. She wondered what happened to them, but wouldn’t ask. It explained the hint of sadness she’d seen in his eye the moment he’d turned on her in the office.

“About earlier. I didn’t mean to rip your head off and eat it for dinner.”

“No?” he asked, with a shifty brow and the barest hint of a smile.

About the Author: 3_18 AuthorPhoto_WarriorMineMegan was born and raised among the live oaks and shrimp boats of the Mississippi Gulf Coast, where her enormous family still calls home. She attended college at the University of Southern Mississippi where she received a bachelor's degree in curriculum, instruction, and special education. For several years Megan worked as a teacher in Mississippi. She married and moved to South Carolina and began working for an international non-profit organization as an instructor and co-director.

In 2009 Megan fell in love with books. Until then, books had been a source for research or the topic of tests. But one day she read Mercy by Julie Garwood. And Oh Mercy, she was hooked!

Megan lives in Southern Arkansas where she pens heart pounding romantic thriller novels and window steaming erotic romance. Follow her!

Website -
Facebook -
Twitter -
Pinterest -
Goodreads -

Buy the book at Amazon, iBooks, or Kobo.

a Rafflecopter giveaway