Friday, September 19, 2014

Waiting for Dusk by Nancy Pennick - Q&A and Giveaway

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This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Nancy will be awarding a $10 Amazon Gift Card and a PDF or mobi copy of Waiting for Dusk to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Why do you write in your genre? What draws you to it?

So far my young adult novels are the only ones that are published. I like writing in that genre and also reading it, too. Going back to a time in everyone’s lives where we all make mistakes, can be self-absorbed and sometimes easily influenced has great potential for story telling. The teen years are the growing up years, shedding childhood and forming new ways of looking at the word.

I have a few Middle Grade/Preteen in the works and would like to write some New Adult. The fun of writing is that you can let your mind go anywhere you wish. You can stay in reality, time travel in science fiction, have elves battle trolls in fantasy…the world is yours for the taking. I enjoy writing what I like to call fantasy or magical realism. I hope the reader can picture themselves in the every day world I create and then all of the sudden…a fantasy life happens.

What research (or world-building) is required?

All of the places Katie visits are real. If you’ve been to the Grand Canyon, you expect it to be accurate. I have visited twice. The second time I checked my story facts. Every author is entitled to artistic license where they can bend the facts or truth. It wouldn’t be fun to write, if you couldn’t!

Katie is a Harvey Girl at the El Tovar restaurant. I did research on Harvey Girls and found it interesting. Fred Harvey brought well-educated girls out west to be servers in his restaurants. They had to be eighteen so that’s where I used the license because Katie is only sixteen. El Tovar is a hotel at the Grand Canyon. You can stay overnight and still eat there. In 1927 a person had to pay to use the Angel Bright path to the bottom of the canyon. Readers will learn a little history, but not too much that it overpowers the story.

Name one thing you learned from your hero/heroine.

Sometimes you can’t do everything on your own. You have to reach out to others for help. You have to trust their judgment and be able to let go of the reins. That can be hard for me at times.

Do you have any odd or interesting writing quirks, habits or superstitions?

Since I don’t drink coffee or smoke cigarettes I can’t paint you a picture of my desk filled with those things. No coffee rings or a collection of half-filled mugs surround me. A cup of tea is more my style. Picture me sitting at a computer desk with clutter around me…necessary clutter that is.

I love writing in the mornings but life gets in the way. Sometimes I have to break away and finish up in the late afternoon. I have no set goals. I write what’s stored in my head for the day--if that makes sense. I’m not happy until I get it on the printed page.

Are you a plotter or pantser?

A combo? I found I do not like outlines. I tried, I really did. Then I discovered I was trying to think up things for each chapter just to jot it down on the outline. I can’t start with just an idea either. Sitting in front of my computer waiting for the plot, dialogue to come to me doesn’t feel quite right either.

I plot the story out in my head—beginning, middle, end. I research, if needed, and usually name my main characters before I start. After that, I can sit and start writing.

Look to your right – what’s sitting there?

Another desk. We have turned a downstairs bedroom (off the kitchen) into a computer room. There is messy clutter everywhere, necessary clutter. If you knew me, you’d laugh, because I like organization. My house is kept in order except for this room for some reason.

Anything new coming up from you? What?

Two things actually. I have a prequel coming out this winter for the Waiting for Dusk series. It is not a fantasy romance novel, no time travel. It will be historical romance that tells about Anna’s journey from boarding school to the Grand Canyon. Her best friend, Lucinda, is also in the story. When they get to the canyon, things don’t go too well for the girls. A cowboy comes between them.

The second project is a short story I’ve written for an anthology of holiday stories. The book, Frozen, will celebrate the season of winter with sweet love stories. My publisher put a call out to her authors and asked for stories. That should come out in October/November sometime.

Do you have a question for our readers?

First a statement. If you read all the way to the bottom and got to this question, thank you!

My question is – Are you willing to try new authors? Ones not recommended by the news media/friends/social media? If you are, you are an author’s best friend. Thank you for taking a chance.

8_8 Cover_Waiting for DuskRead a book.

Fall asleep.

Meet a boy.

Is it real or just a dream?

Katie's everyday life suddenly turns exciting when she travels back in time and meets the boy of her dreams. Thinking of nothing else, willing to leave the real world behind, she's determined to find out if it's all a dream or not. Returning again and again, Katie almost has her answers until one day her precious book goes missing.

Enjoy an excerpt:

At that moment, there was a tap at the window. The girls grew quiet and all turned toward the window. It was nearing dusk and hard to see.

“Probably some creature,” Ruthie said casually.

Then there was a tap, tap, tapping sound again.

“Unless it knows how to make a rhythmic tapping sound, I don’t think it’s an animal. I’m going out there to see,” said Katie.

“Not a good idea!” Lucinda shouted after her.

By then Katie was down the hall and out the door. The warm night air hit her face. It felt good to get out of Lucinda’s room. It was closing in on her, especially after the strange attack on Anna.

Katie was deep in thought, when she heard a sound. A footstep? She spun around to see Drew standing there. “Oh, I didn’t mean to startle you, Miss Kathryn. You did say you were staying at the boardinghouse and I thought I’d come to see if you are comfortable. If you have everything you need.”

That’s a good line, Katie thought. He was so handsome in the moonlight she could have stayed in that spot forever. Drew walked over to her. “I have never seen anyone as beautiful as you.”

“Lights out!” Mrs. Johansson called in the distance.

Katie couldn’t help it. It was her dream after all. She fell into Drew’s arms and kissed him. He kissed her back. They seemed to melt into each other as one. Right then and there Katie wished that it was not a dream and that it would never end.

8_8 Author Pic 1About the Author: Born and raised in Northeast Ohio, Nancy currently resides in Mentor, Ohio with her husband and their college-age son, plus a delightfully entertaining lovebird. Her writing is influenced by all the years of working with young people as a teacher and raising her own son. When not writing, Nancy loves to travel with her husband and enjoys a good cup of tea. Waiting for Dusk is the first in her three book series. Call of the Canyon and Stealing Time continue the story of Kate and Drew.

Blog ~ Amazon Author Page

Buy the book at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Publisher, Smashwords, or Kobo.

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Thursday, September 18, 2014

Blondie and the Hitman by Kathy Shaw - Spotlight and Giveaway

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

If Dead Men Could Talk…

When a busty Blonde with amnesia barrels into Private Investigator Darla Bodecker’s life, Darla decides to help a bimbo out. She must use all her unique PI skills to discover Blondie’s true identity before the Russian Mob captures her.

Come along for the wild and crazy ride when Darla uses a big dose of humor and a little dash of romance to solve Blondie’s mystery.

Enjoy an excerpt:

“Where the hell are you?” Pete roared into my cell phone.

“Did you get Blondie out of there before the cops showed up?” I asked, purposefully ignoring his question.

“No, I served her up to them with a side order of fries.” His sarcasm oozed from my phone thick enough to run down my arm. “What the fuck do you think I did?”

“Fine. You don’t have to get testy.” I watched the gunmen get out of their car and then go into the Russian deli they’d just parked in front of. “How is she?”

“A hellva a lot better than you’re going to be when I get my hands on you. Now, where are you?”

“On the corner of You-don’t-want-to-know and No-way-in-hell-I’m-going-to-tell-you.”

“Cute, Darla, real cute. Now get your smart ass back here!”

“Dial back the attitude, Pete. It’s not winning you any brownie points.” I dipped my phone away from my mouth then took a deep breath before slowly letting it out. We both needed to take things down a notch.

Either Pete picked up on my vibes or he’d finally popped that purple blood vessel in his temple that always protruded when he got really pissed at me. It could go either way.

Pete sounded beyond pissed. He’d sounded—well, um—way beyond pissed.

Finally, he spoke, his anger replaced with more surly sarcasm. “When do you think your Highness might grace me with your presence?”

I felt myself grin. Only Pete could make me smile after I’d lied my ass off to a grieving widow, been shot at and then played hide and seek whilst breaking land speed records.

About the Author:
Kathy Shaw is a female version of a true Southern-bred good ol' boy. Her first love is her family, but her writing comes in a close second. She is multi-published in romance, but is currently working on a zany new mystery series.

She writes romantic comedies, humorous mysteries and playful erotica. The common thread in her writing is hands-down her humor.

She attributes a goodly amount of her success to her killer critique group. Her husband, however, credits it to her wacky--sometimes warped--sense of humor. But he's an Aggie, so what does he know?

Buy the book at Barnes and Noble, Amazon, or Kobo. a Rafflecopter giveaway

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Intoxicated by Jeana Mann - Guest post and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Jeana will be awarding a $40 Amazon GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Jeana has shared five things about her we might not guess or already know. Welcome, Jeana!

Wow! This is a great topic (and a little scary too). Well, I’m brave so here goes.

First, I am incredibly near-sighted – to the point that I can barely find my way around the house without my glasses or contacts. And now that I’m getting older, I wear contacts AND reading glasses. How embarrassing is that!

Second, I have a secret collection of hats. Some of them were acquired through my travels (sombrero from Mexico, straw hat from Hawaii). Others are remnants from showing horses as a teenager (bowler, derby, cowboy hats). Some were purchased at rummage sales and antique shops. My favorite is a leather cap worn by a little boy back in 1902. It came in a box of miscellaneous junk purchased from an estate sale along with a picture of the boy. I like to imagine the lives of the people who wore them and the stories those hats could tell.

Third, I don’t like clowns. At all. Stephen King’s book It nearly sent me over the edge and I have never looked at a clown the same way since. Even Ronald McDonald gives me the creeps!

Fourth, I have a “thing” about keeping my food separated on the plate. Those disposable plates with the dividers? Love, love them! I avoid eating pancakes and syrup because the syrup might escape and touch something else. Some people call that a control issue. I call it organized eating.

Fifth, I love old black and white movies. Humphrey Bogart, Lauren Bacall, Lana Turner, and Katherine Hepburn are some of my favorite actors. When I was a kid, I would stay up late at night to watch reruns. Back then, movies were larger than life and so melodramatic. I think those movies shaped a lot of my imagination and storylines that I use today.

Okay, I just read through my answers and realized that I sound like a total lunatic. I hope you enjoyed the craziness. It’s been great fun sharing a few of my secrets with you. Thank you so much for stopping by!

Love is intoxicating, but the hangover can be agony...

Conservative, straight-laced Ally Taylor has the perfect life – successful fiancĂ©, beautiful home, great career – until she catches her fiancĂ© and best friend in bed. Desperate to shake off the sting of rejection, Ally heads to Felony, a notorious heavy metal club on the bad side of town. Even more dangerous than the bar is Jack Jameson, the hunky alpha male bartender whose smoldering dark eyes and dimpled smile turns her common sense to mush and her knees to noodles. After eight long years in a failed romance, the last thing Ally wants is to hook up with someone like Jack, but she can’t help wondering if he’s really as good in bed as his reputation suggests.

Jack Jameson has had his eye on Ally for months, drawn to her smart mouth and tightly wound self-control. When Jack finds Ally sitting on a barstool in his club, heartbroken and miserable, he’s more than happy to offer a little heat between the sheets to distract her. Too bad Ally’s not interested in his “hit-it-and-quit-it” philosophy. If only Jack could convince Ally that he’s tired of the endless parade of girls through his bedroom, she might see him in a different light.

When Jack and Ally get together, everything goes wrong and it’s more than either of them bargained for. Ally’s got serious trust issues and a need for control that makes Jack crazy. Jack’s got more baggage than an airline carousel; the constant stream of women from his past stirs up all of Ally’s insecurities. Can Ally overlook Jack’s womanizing past and learn to trust him? Will Jack be able to commit to just one woman or will a secret from his past ruin everything?

Enjoy an excerpt:

Miss Ponytail had taken up residence in Jack’s Seat of Shame. The girl had one hand on Jack’s arm, rubbing the swell of his tattooed bicep with a sly smile on her crimson red lips. Upon seeing Ally, Jack deserted the new girl, grabbed two shot glasses and a bottle of Jack Daniels from behind the bar, and took up the empty barstool next to her.

“That’s some crazy shit, them showing up here like that,” he said as he filled both glasses and pushed one towards her. “I admire your control. I probably would’ve punched one of them in the mouth.”

For the millionth time that day, she withered with embarrassment. She decided to pretend indifference to cover her shame. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

“That. Over there.” He jerked his head in the direction of the happy couple. “They’re having a bit of a disagreement over whether to leave or stay. Seems your presence has shaken them up a little. Wanna know what they said?”

The question gave birth to a dozen more emotions that she didn’t want to face. A flush crept up her neck and into her face. The heat of it burned her cheeks. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that eavesdropping is impolite?”

“She did,” he admitted with a flash of dimples, “but I learn the most interesting things that way.”

About the Author:
Jeana Mann is the author of sizzling hot contemporary romance. Her debut release Intoxicated was a First Place Winner of the 2013 Cleveland Rocks Romance Contest and a finalist for the 2014 Carolyn Readers Choice Award.

Jeana was born and raised in Indiana where she lives today with her two crazy rat terriers Mildred and Mabel. She graduated from Indiana University with a degree in Speech and Hearing, something totally unrelated to writing. When she’s not busy dreaming up steamy romance novels, she loves to travel anywhere and everywhere. Over the years she climbed the ruins of Chichen Iza in Mexico, snorkeled along the shores of Hawaii, sailed around Jamaica, ate gelato on the steps of the Pantheon in Rome, and explored the ancient city of Pompeii. More important than the places she’s been are the people she has met along the way.

Be sure to connect with Jeana on Facebook or follow along on Twitter for the latest news regarding her upcoming releases.
Amazon Author Page

Buy the book at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, All Romance eBooks, Google Play, or iTunes

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Dog Days of Summer by P.J. Fiala - Q&A and Giveaway

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9_9 PrizeThis post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. P.J. will be awarding a rack card with Dog Tags to FIVE randomly drawn winners via rafflecopter during the tour, and a Grand Prize of a Kindle Paperwhite loaded with books from fellow authors to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Welcome to It's Raining Books, P.J. Why do you write in your genre? What draws you to it?

I love romance. I love, love. I love a book about a couple trying to work through issues, commitments, family, exes, and all the other issues that can hamper a brand new relationship and being there while they work it out. There is nothing better to me than reading a book about a fantasy man and woman and being there for their first kiss, their first sigh, the first time they make love. That, is amazing to me and inspiring in a world so full of hate. I hope my readers love it too, because I have dozens of stories running around in my head about love.

What research is required?

The reader needs to feel like they are right there with the characters and that the characters are real. That’s so necessary. To research places your characters will eat, live, play and work is so important because you need to describe where your characters are. I think a fantasy place is harder than a real place. At least if you are in a real city, the streets are all named and the buildings are all there. All you need to do is visit it and take pictures. But, a fantasy, you are creating everything. Nothing needs to be left out.

Name one thing you learned from your hero/heroine.

Patience. Jeremiah (Dog) Sheppard knows as soon as he meets Joci that she is something special. She thinks the same about him, but she isn’t willing to jump into a relationship. She holds back, because of fear. Jeremiah is patient with her, more than I ever could be with a person.

Do you have any odd or interesting writing quirks, habits or superstitions?

Well, my husband and I are bikers and I find that taking a bike ride really helps me think. When I’m stuck or things aren’t flowing, climbing on the motorcycle will always clear my head and get me back on track. Helps me with new ideas too, not sure how that works, but it does.

Are you a plotter or pantser?

I’m not sure what a pantser is. If it means do I fly by the seat of my pants, I have to admit, that would be me. I can’t stay within rigid boxes, I need to zoom out and then back in. Make sense?

Look to your right – what’s sitting there?

My coffee table. I’m laying on the floor, the television on, writing this out. I always lay on the floor while watching television. I think it’s from my childhood, we weren’t really allowed on the furniture, so, I lay on the floor.

Anything new coming up from you? What?

Dog Days of Summer is the first book in the Rolling Thunder Motorcycle series, so the next book, Rydin the Storm Out, is about Ryder Sheppard, Dog’s son. That is just now coming back from beta readers with positive comments. I’m excited to bring it to my readers.

Do you have a question for our readers?

What do you prefer? Drama or no drama? Lots of angst or a little angst? Paranormal or human?

9_9 Cover_Dog Days of SummerOwning Rolling Thunder Motorcycles, Inc. and raising his twin sons was top priority in Dog’s life. That was until he met Jocelyn James, the sweet, loving, single mother of Gunnar, a young man who works for Dog.

Joci raised Gunnar alone all of his life after her cheating, dickhead of a boyfriend ran off with another woman. She finished school, started her own graphic design business and hung out with friends and family. The last thing on her mind was men! That is until she met Dog.

The chemistry is undeniable. The passion is incredible. The family bond is like no other.

Enjoy an excerpt:

There were times like this when Joci wanted to burst out laughing it felt so good. The wind in her face, running through her hair, the sun warming her skin, the roar all around her, seven hundred-plus pounds of pure unadulterated power between her legs, and she was controlling it all. Gliding through traffic with her son, Gunnar, just a few yards in front of her, feeling all the love and joy God made for her, just her. Yes, these were the times Joci enjoyed. She smiled as they came up behind a car and floated over to the left lane to pass. As she watched, Gunnar glided easily past the car, his dark hair pulled into a low ponytail, the two little kids in the back seat watching him and smiling at each other. You could tell they were thinking, Someday, I’m going to do that. Then as she pulled up alongside to pass them, they started smiling and pointing at her, one of them turning to the adult in the front seat and saying something causing the driver to look over at her as she passed him. He smiled at her, and Joci smiled back at the reaction; it happened often. She could almost hear the kids in the back: Look dad, a girl on a motorcycle.

She easily pulled in front of the car and continued on down the highway to their destination. She loved this life, this group of people that she had, at least, this in common with. A few minutes later, Gunnar and Joci put their turn signals on to turn off the highway, onto a frontage road, and into the parking lot of Rolling Thunder Motorcycles. They navigated the last few shoppers straggling out at the end of the day.

Gunnar worked at Rolling Thunder Motorcycles as a mechanic for the past year. He loved working here. He loved the people he worked with, he loved the customers and their bikes, he loved building bikes, and lately Dog had let him help in the design on some of the custom bikes they were known for. And well-known they were becoming. Dog built some of the hottest bikes around. He had recently been in Rider magazine, and showcased on several “biker” shows. His reputation for building beautiful, custom, mechanically sound bikes was becoming legend.

About the Author:9_9 AuthorPic_Dog Days of SummerI was born in a suburb of St. Louis, Missouri named Bridgeton. During my time in Missouri, I explored the Ozarks, swam in the Mississippi River, and played kickball and endless games of hide and seek with the neighborhood kids. Spending summers in Kentucky with my grandmother, Ruth, are the fondest childhood memories for me.

At the age of thirteen, my family moved to Wisconsin to learn to farm. Yes, learn to farm! That was interesting. Taking city kids and throwing them on a farm with twenty-eight cows purchased from the humane society because they had been abused was interesting. I learned to milk cows, the ins and outs of breeding and feeding schedules, the never ending haying in the summer, and trying to stay warm in the winter. Our first winter in Wisconsin we had thirty-six inches of snow in one storm and were snowed in our house for three days! Needless to say, I wasn’t loving Wisconsin.

I am now married with four children and two grandchildren and a new one on the way this summer. I have learned to love Wisconsin, though I still hate snow. Wisconsin and the United States are beautiful, and my husband and I travel around by motorcycle seeing new sites and meeting new people. It never ceases to amaze me how many people are interested in where we are going and what we have seen along the way. At every gas station, restaurant, and hotel, we have people come up to us and ask us about what we are doing as well as offer advice on which roads in the area are better than others.

I come from a family of veterans. My grandfather, father, brother, two of my sons, and one daughter-in-law are all veterans. Needless to say, I am proud. Proud to be an American and proud of the service my amazing family has given.

Website ~ YouTube ~ Facebook ~ Street Team ~ Twitter ~ Pinterest ~ Goodreads ~ Amazon Author Page ~ RebelMouse ~ Google+

Follow the links for the playlist: Second Chances

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Tuesday, September 16, 2014

The Three Kitties That Saved My Life by Mike Meyer - Book Review and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Michael will be awarding a $15 Amazon Gift Card to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Finalist 2014 RONE Award, Inspirational Book
AN UPLIFTING TRUE STORY OF LOVE - from love and loss to love once again - a feel-good read
#1 Amazon best seller in Love and Loss, December 2013
#1 Amazon best seller in Educator Biographies, April 2014
#1 Amazon best seller in Love & Romance, April 2014

What if you suddenly lost your partner through life? How would you find the will to go on all alone? Would you ever be able to fall in love again? This is the true story of my journey from grieving widower, not caring if I lived or died, to the once-again happily married man I am today, a man who both loves and cherishes life. My three kitties have given me a new zest for living.

My story begins with loss and tears, but it ends with lots of love and laughter. I hope that you will find yourself both entertained and inspired by my journey.

My review:

This is a charming little book and, at only 80 pages, it is a quick read. I finished it in one evening, but there are parts of it that will stay with me for a while.

My heart broke for the author as he described his first marriage and the the tragedy that so swiftly came upon him and his wife. I laughed at the description as how Coco came into his life (it's true.. cats choose their owners, not the other way around). And I was excited for him when his second Kitty came into his life.

This book runs a gamut of emotions in its few pages--and the author's voice comes through loud and clear. Good job, Mr. Meyer. 4 flowers.

Enjoy an excerpt:

It is amazing how time helps. In time, I have learned to overcome my own albatross. I have learned to live again, to love again. Life is a gift reads a plaque on our dining room wall, and that sums up what I have gained from the three kitties that saved my life. From Coco, I learned to care again. From Kitty, I learned to love again. From Pom Pom, I have learned how to cope with my own demons, the effects of aging being one of these. Pom Pom has taught me to accept what is and then to move onward. Yes, I have learned plenty from my three kitties.

My journey has been a long one, a difficult one at times, but it has a happy ending. The three kitties in my life have made it so. They have all helped me to become the happy-to-be-alive man that I am today. I now accept rather than cope. I live each day to the fullest, knowing full well that life is a gift, and a very precious one at that. I look back on my life and I often think that I must be the luckiest man in the world. I have so much to be thankful for. The wonderment and beauty of life are both so dear to me.

And, to add a delicious icing to the lovely taste of my life, I can say with total honesty to the whole world, my voice booming into the sky, my dancing feet not caring in the least who might see me, that I have been very fortunate to have done something that brings more sheer delight and wonderful pride to me than anything else that I have accomplished in my life: I have fallen madly, heads-over-heels in love not once, but twice, and how many others can say that?

About the Author:
Michael Meyer is an award-winning author of mysteries, thrillers, humorous fiction, and non-fiction: Love and romance, laughter and tears, thrills and fears. THE THREE KITTIES THAT SAVED MY LIFE was his heartfelt attempt to make things right again in his life after his first wife died, and putting this true story of love down on paper worked. It was something that he knew he had to do. One reviewer says of this book, "This is like drinking tea and honey on a cold day." As a recent retiree from a forty-year career as a professor of writing, he now lives in Southern California wine country with his wife, Kitty, and their two adorable rescue cats.

Amazon author site:
Facebook writer’s site:
Pinterest writer’s site:

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Silent Love by Casey Clipper - Except and Giveaway

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This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. A Grand Prize of a $25 Amazon GC will be awarded to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Also, leave a comment to win a PDF of the book on this stop. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

MEDIA KIT silent-love-final2-02Former Navy SEAL Sean Millen has been perfectly fine with his bachelorhood until recently, when he realizes he's unhappy with his single status. Unfortunately, his playboy reputation doesn't offer him the type of woman that could fulfill his days and nights as well as settle into the specific life he envisions.

Four years ago, Beth Connors' world was entirely altered. Beth spends her days trying to remain invisible in order to avoid unwanted attention. Each night she sheds grief-filled tears over the former life she once led but will never be able to regain.

When Beth literally runs into him. Doctor Sean Millen. A force of nature. A rock. A reputable heartbreaker, who takes an immediate interest in her, there's no place for her to hide. But Beth's natural instinct to push Sean away to save herself and him from the difficult task of adjusting their lives to her shortcomings is always front and center. Yet, Beth secretly longs for love. Is she strong enough to tear down the walls of her self-imposed prison?

Sean finds himself falling for a woman who is determined to reject his every advance and deny their surprisingly deep connection. Can Sean push past Beth's concrete walls that she refuses to destroy? Or will Beth's shocking revelation of her past prevent them from finding the love they both deserve? Or will a tragic accident pull Sean and Beth apart permanently?

*This is not a cliffhanger.
**Not suitable for under 18 years old. Contains sexual scenes.

Enjoy an excerpt:

Seated at her desk, Beth pulled up the notes on the patient whose bill was in the hundreds of thousands of dollars. Medicare was auditing the chart, and she had to make certain all the i's were dotted and t's were crossed before the paperwork left the office. About to plunge into the work, a large figure loomed behind her. She'd seen his shadow step into the background of her dark computer screen.

Heart fluttering with nervous excitement, he returned despite her objections.

A gentle hand landed on her shoulder. Spinning in her chair, Sean stood behind her with a giant grin donning those devastatingly handsome features. Gawd, he should be a model for SEALs 'R Us.

"Hi," he said.


"Lunch today?" he asked.

She nodded. There was no way she could turn him down. After he left her house last night, all she did was think of him late into the early morning hours. Thoughts of a potential future toyed with her. There'd been a time in her life when she defined herself by the man who held her heart. That changed a long time ago when she'd needed the support of her boyfriend the most, but he checked out. Disappeared. He'd left her at her most dire time.

"Good," he said. Reaching into his lab coat pocket, he pulled out a small white box tied with white string. "This is for after lunch." He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "I'll come and get you at noon." He sauntered off before she could argue she'd rather eat lunch a half an hour earlier.

After she'd watched him until he was out of sight, she spun back to her work but eyed the small box. She'd never been a patient girl when it came to gifts. Many Christmases her parents spent coming up with new hiding places for her presents.

Beth pulled her scissors out of the desk drawer and snipped off the string. She unfolded the lid and gasped. A tiny chocolate cake with fudge icing sat picture perfect inside the white box. Tears formed in her eyes. That simple pastry was the most thoughtful gift she'd ever received from a man.

About the Author: Bestselling Contemporary Romance Author Casey Clipper lives in Pittsburgh, PA. She's an admitted sports fanatic and chocolate lover (though that could be classified more as an addiction). An avid romance reader, she loves to lose herself in a good book. Casey is a member of the Romance Writers of America, Contemporary Romance Writers, Pennwriters, the Authors Guild, TRRW, ASMSG, and IAN.


Buy the book at Amazon US, Amazon UK, Amazon CA, or Smashwords.

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Monday, September 15, 2014

Five Fun Facts about Susan Soares - Guest Blog and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Susan will be awarding a Life is all Good LOVE Tote to a randomly drawn winner (, a multi-heart turquoise charm bracelet ( to another randomly drawn winner, a signed copy of Heart on a String to one more randomly drawn winner and finally, a signed bookmark of Heart on a String to three randomly drawn winners. All prizes will be awarded via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Five Facts about Susan Soares

1. I’ve been on stage and kissed Wayne Newton and Tony Orlando. Yup. When I was little my mom was a huge Wayne Newton fan. She used to take me to see him perform, as well as many other well known Vegas performers. So since I was little and cute my mom would send me with roses up the stage and sometimes they’d let me come up and I’d talk to the celebrity and sometimes they’d kiss me. Well, my mom’s favorite story is this: We went to see Tony Orlando. I get up on stage and he asks if he can kiss me and I say yes. He then says, “Have you ever been kissed by a man with a moustache before?” I quietly say, “Yes,” He says, “Oh by who? Your Daddy?” and I say, “No, Wayne Newton.” The crowd roared with laughter and I had no idea why. :-)

2. I have 14 tattoos. Now this isn’t super unusual but to know me it always comes as a shock. I’m a pretty conservative person. In my work life I’m always the one known to dress conservative, to act conservative etc. Then someone will either see a hint of a tattoo or the topic comes up and I mention I have 14 of them and their eyes bug out of their heads. It always makes me laugh. Don’t judge a book by its cover!

3. I’ve been in a hair show. When I was nine years old somehow I ended up in a hair show. I have naturally curly hair and my mother made me suffer for years in perfect pigtails. My hair had grown all the way down my back and on special occasions my mother would style my hair down with lots of perfect little ringlets. I remember being really excited about being in the show. It was like a fashion show. There was an adult woman who had super long, straight, brown hair like Crystal Gayle (I’m showing my age here), but what was super cool was that they painted a rose on her hair!

4. I was a window model. Do you remember in the late 80’s early 90’s stores at the mall or on strips would put live people posing as mannequins in their windows? I was working at Wilson’s Suede and Leather at the time and we wanted to get in on the act. There was a bet for how long I’d last in the window. I sat there for four and a half hours! Everyone bet I’d give up after a half hour or so. It’s hard to stay totally still! People would stop and stare at the window and wonder if I was real or not. My manager would come over to me and adjust the clothes on me or add a scarf or something and the people watching would swear I was a mannequin. That’s when I’d blow them a kiss or move my hand to wave and watch them jump!

5. Coming up with a 5th one is hard! Does that mean I’m incredibly boring? :-) How about we keep it simple. I’m a huge Disney World fan. The only vacation I want to go on is a Disney World vacation. When I was a kid we went quite a bit. Then I had a huge stretch as a young adult/early twenties where I didn’t go at all. Now I’m able to share the magic of Disney with my kids and it’s so much fun. We take a trip yearly with my sister. Disney is my happy place and it’s so cool to see it again through my daughters’ eyes.

The only thing harder than lying about your life? Facing it.

Marissa tells lies.

To herself, about the fact that her brother abandoned her.

To her grandmother, when she says “everything’s fine.”

To the world when she pretends her mother is at home or working late. When she doesn’t tell them her mother is dead.

She doesn’t even question the wisdom of living in a world built on lies anymore—until she meets Brandon. Unlike Marissa, Brandon faces his grief head-on. As their relationship sweetens, Marissa realizes the value of letting someone in and not letting her grief destroy her. But when her past filled with denial catches up with her, Marissa is forced to tell Brandon her darkest secrets, or risk losing him.

The only thing harder than lying about her life? Facing it.

Enjoy an excerpt:

I held my breath as I ran past the cemetery. Stupid, I know. Regardless, it’s one of those idiotic things that stick with you from your childhood. Like fragments of your being that imprint themselves on your chemical makeup. It was my older brother, Marc, who had told me that once when we were in the backseat of Mom’s old hatchback and were driving past the Sacred Path Cemetery.

Marc poked me in my side. “Quick, hold your breath,” he said before taking in a puff of air and holding it in.

“What? Why?” I looked around from side to side.

He didn’t answer me. Instead he just kept motioning with his hands, pointing out the window, putting his hands around his neck like he was choking or something. Finally, when we turned left onto Harper Street he let out a big exhale.

“Oh man, now you’re toast.” He pointed at me and laughed. That maniacal laugh only older brothers know how to do. I was seven at the time, and Marc was ten. “You probably have a ghost inside you now.” He grinned like a devious villain.

“A ghost?” I said.

“You didn’t hold your breath while we drove past the cemetery. Again I state — you’re toast.” He began drumming on his lap with his hands.

I didn’t comprehend what he was telling me, but I knew I didn’t like it. Tears started forming in my eyes, and I knew I had to rely on my failsafe. “Mooommm,” I cried out, and immediately I felt Marc’s sweaty hand over my mouth.

“Yes, Marissa?” Mom’s sweet voice carried from the front of the car to the backseat.

“She’s fine, Mom. I got it.” Marc’s tone was of the dutiful son. He unclamped his hand from my face. “Listen,” he began, talking kind of slow. “You’ve got to remember this. I’m going to give you a life lesson here. Are you ready?”

His green eyes were sparkling, and I nodded my head in agreement.

“Okay.” He crouched down a bit so he was eye-level with me. “You must always, and I mean always, hold your breath when you drive past a cemetery. And if you’re walking past one, you must run — run and hold your breath until you’re clear. Otherwise, the spirits of the undead could invade your body. And you don’t want that to happen. Do you?” I almost couldn’t tell if the last part was a question or a statement.

“But I didn’t hold my breath back there, and all the times before. What if one’s in me right now?” I began pawing at my body.

Marc threw his head back and laughed. “Nah, you’re fine. Just be careful. Now that you know you have to do it, always do it. Understand?”

Again I shook my head. Marc gave me a thumbs-up, and I begged Mom to take Chester Street instead of Maple because I knew there was a big cemetery on Maple. Luckily she agreed.

So now, here I was ten years later, holding my breath as I ran past Sacred Path Cemetery. While I ran, my new sneakers — the ones I had to work double shifts on Saturdays for three weeks to get — started rubbing the back of my left heel, and I knew I’d have a blister the size of a quarter later on. It’s hard to keep your pace when you’re holding your breath. Luckily Sacred Path Cemetery isn’t that big. Just big enough. It’s just big enough. That’s what my grandmother said anyway. I was almost halfway through when I heard the clicking of the tips of my shoelace on the ground. My thoughts concentrated on what those tip things were called, anything to get my mind off the cemetery. Aglets, I remembered! My aglets were hitting the pavement, and I knew if I didn’t stop and retie that lace, then I would land flat on my face. Grace has never been a character trait of mine. My mother, yes, but not me. Marissa No-Grace McDonald should have been my legal name. How my mother came up with Scranton for my middle name I’ll never know.

The last thing I wanted to happen was to fall face first in front of the cemetery. Complete body invasion for sure then. I couldn’t hold my breath that long. So I did what I had to do. I stopped, turned my face the opposite direction of the cemetery, and took one big breath in and held it. Next, I bent down and furiously retied that lace. Why is it that whenever you try doing something in a rush it never comes out right? Somehow I tied my finger into the knot. Then, I couldn’t get the loops to line up right. Just as I was finally conquering the over-under shoelace tying technique that Marc had taught me when I was five, I heard muffled sounds coming from inside the cemetery. I searched for the source of the sounds. As I looked near the line of big oak trees that lined the right-hand side of the cemetery, I saw the profiles of a family. What I assumed was a family, anyway. There was a woman, about my mom’s age, a guy about my age, and a younger boy, maybe six or seven. The little boy was holding a metallic balloon, which was red and in the shape of a heart. Bright sun caught the corner of it, creating a glare that momentarily impaired my vision. When my eyes refocused, I was suddenly aware of my body and extremely aware of the fact that I was watching this family’s private moment, in the cemetery, in this cemetery. My heart beat frantically, and I became aware that my forehead was covered in perspiration. I stood up, held my breath again, and ran the next half a block without stopping, my aglets clicking against the pavement all the way.

When I crossed over onto Brenton Street, I finally slowed down. I felt like I could breathe again. My pace was back to a more conservative speed, and after one more break to retie that shoelace-triple-knot, I was able to refocus. The spring air felt good on my skin. As the sun poured down on me, my face embraced its warmth. Lilacs were in full bloom everywhere, and I made a special detour down Hazel Street to run past the six lilac bushes Mr. Brockwell planted a few years ago. He said it was just because he wanted to add some color to his front yard, but I knew better. I knew they were for my mom.

Turning down Hazel Street, I inhaled the heavy floral scent of the freshly-bloomed lilac bushes, and I could picture my mom smiling. As I ran past the last bush, the little blue house finally came into view. I saw Mr. Brockwell picking up his newspaper from his front step. In that moment I wished I had magical powers to turn myself invisible.

“Marissa? Hey Marissa!” he shouted while making his way over to the fence.

Oh great. “Oh, hey, Mr. Brockwell.” I slowed down and began jogging in place, hoping the gesture would let him know I couldn’t stay to chat.

“It’s been a long time since you’ve run this route, hasn’t it?” He cinched his blue terrycloth robe a little tighter.

Trying to remain active, I kept jogging in place. “Yeah, I guess. I wanted to run past the lilacs.” I wasn’t sure if it was the sun or my nerves, but I felt like my body was going into heat shock or something.

Mr. Brockwell stared at me, and then I saw his eyes get glassy. He began to speak but then ran his hand over his mouth like he was muffling down what he wanted to say. His hands fumbled with his paper, and he cleared his throat.

“It’s good to see—” he paused; it was like the words were getting caught in his throat like tuna inside a fisherman’s net.

I realized I was standing still. My legs began to spasm. He caught my eye one more time, but just for a moment before he had to look away. I knew why. It was the reason I never ran past his house anymore. The reason why we couldn’t have a conversation anymore. Everyone used to tell me I was so lucky to look so much like my mom. She was gorgeous. High cheekbones, perfect heart-shaped mouth, sparkling blue eyes that sat perfectly on her oval face. Besides her hair being a stunning ash blond and mine being mouse brown, we did look quite similar. Except that while her features seemed to make her look like Grace Kelly, mine seemed to make me look like, well, not Grace Kelly.

But it was moments like this — Mr. Brockwell unable to look at me for more than a minute without having to look away — that I wished I looked less like her. I felt like my face was betraying him. Like my cheekbones and lips were baiting him with memories of him and my mom together. Although now, each memory was served with a side of sorrow instead of a side of joy.

I’ll never forget when I saw him two days after the funeral. We bumped into each other at Have Another Cup Coffee Shop on Main Street. First he hugged me and asked how I was doing; then he had to look away, and he told me why.

“It hurts to look at you, Marissa. You look so much like her.” I knew how much he loved my mom, and Marc and I enjoyed having him around, but after that moment I made sure to keep my distance. So he went from being Hank to back to being Mr. Brockwell.

Now, I stood there — uncomfortable from sweat that covered me head to toe — wondering how much longer I needed to stand there while he avoided my face. “So, I gotta go or my pace is gonna be all messed up.”

Hank, I mean, Mr. Brockwell took one final look at me. “Sure, sure.” He started to walk backward then stopped. “Marissa, just so you know. Any time you want to see the lilacs you can.”

The lump in my throat held back any words I could have gotten out, so I just waved and made a beeline for the next street so I could start my way back home. Seeing Mr. Brockwell had put me into a fog. My brain wasn’t able to concentrate on my pace or on my footing, and I began to get a shin splint pain on my left-hand side. Unfortunately, this was the same side as the blister. My run was only six miles, but my body was starting to feel like I was at mile thirteen. I couldn’t relax my breathing, and the back of my throat felt like it was on fire every time I inhaled. In my fog, I didn’t realize I forgot to cross Parker Street, and now the only way to get back was to take Fletcher Street again. And run past Sacred Path Cemetery, again. Now, I ran past that cemetery every day on my jog, but only once. Once was all I needed to let me get it out of my system. And it’s not like my mom’s grave is right where I run past. She’s way on the other side, the Cranville Street side. I never run that side. But now, in all the confusion, I have to go past it again. My hand scratched an itch at the back of my neck as the street sign came into view. Like always, I stopped for a moment, took a few deep breaths in and out, then grabbed one big breath of air and held it as I started my way past the cemetery.

My focus was way up ahead to the stop sign at the other end. I kept my eyes on that sign and kept my feet stepping under me, quick and steady. I wasn’t even halfway across when I caught sight of some sort of string frantically whipping in the wind, and I was running straight toward it. My gaze moved to follow the line of the string, trying to see what it was attached to, and that’s when I saw it, caught in the big tree right by the fence. The red, heart-shaped metallic balloon, and my heart hit the ground.

About the Author:
Susan Soares grew up in a small town in Massachusetts, always dreaming of one day being an author. After numerous short stories, poems and plays, those dreams finally became a reality when her first book, My Zombie Ex-Boyfriends was published. (Featherweight Press, 2013) Her second book Heart on a String was just released in June 2014 by Astraea Press.

Susan received her MA in Creative Writing and English from Southern New Hampshire University, and will be pursuing teaching soon. When she isn't writing Susan spends her time reading, experimenting with photography, planning her next Disney World vacation and chasing after her kids.

Susan loves to read YA fiction. Maybe it's because her inner sixteen-year-old still wants to be prom queen.

Goodreads Author page:

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Up the Tower by J.P. Lantern - Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author will be awarding a backlist ebook copy to a randomly drawn winner at every stop during the tour and a Grand Prize of a $25 Amazon GC will be awarded to one randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during this tour. Click on the banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Why do you write in your genre? What draws you to it?

I love science fiction as a writer because of the possibilities it presents to imagine and create. When you write in a real-world context, I feel like there’s a lot of accountability you have to be aware of. Everything has to make sense with the world as the world is. When you write science fiction, you’re allowed to sidestep some of that and present new ways of looking at common problems through the magic of allegory and metaphor. So a spaceship doesn’t have to be a spaceship, it can be a symbol of escape, or hope, or endless corpocracy, or whatever.

What research (or world-building – for fantasy/paranormal/Sci-fi) is required?

There’s a ton of world-building required for something like UP THE TOWER, and it only takes place in one small part of that world. The whole of the story takes place in one dystopian slum, but for that slum to feel real, I had to think a lot about the world around the slum that would make it not only possible, but necessary. I think most of the best world-building comes about from writers taking one or two premises and then writing about the logical extensions of that, in terms of the world that’s presented.

So, the premise I used was what might happen if the corporate hegemony that controls so much of the world today was just more overt, rather than playing around in the background like it does now. So, if that’s…you know, fifty or sixty or a hundred years from now in the future, you kind of scale what might be possible with technology to that one notion and go to work.

Any odd or interesting writing quirks, habits or superstitions?

I don’t have many superstitions or quirks, I don’t think. When it’s time to write, I just write. Usually after a little bit of reading to cleanse my palette, so to speak, so that I’m not just pretending to write like myself the whole time.

The only interesting habit I can think of is just that I have to get up every half-hour or so to stretch. I’ve got some terrible pain from a bad neck and a lifetime of being in front of a keyboard and monitor, so I have a ton of little stretching/exercise implements all around my desk.

Plotter or pantser?

For me, it’s a bit of both. I come into a story with a general plot, though I don’t really write much down other than some basic buts and therefores. When I’m writing, a lot of little throwaway lines will get tossed down, and then later on I’ll come back to them and have to sit and think about how I might develop them. For example, in UP THE TOWER, when Gary and Ana are walking through the city together before they meet Ore, Ana has a thought about something called, “the water boom.” This was just an off-the-cuff way of describing St. Louis as an area that had some great economic times, and no longer had them. I didn’t really think too much of what it might mean to have a water boom other than that maybe somehow water was responsible for a lot of cheap, easy power in some way. After a while, though, the idea of the water boom happening ended up being pretty central the idea of Junktown as an entity in St. Louis and the nature of the setting of St. Louis as a town owned by the corporation Tri-American.

Look to your right – what’s sitting there?

A box of tissues, a bottle of water and cranberry juice, some blank sticky notes, and the plastic fork I’m about to go eat lunch with.

Anything new coming up from you? What?

For the moment, not a lot! I’ve got lots more stops on this fine blog tour, with lots of chances to win a $25 Amazon Gift Card by commenting. But as far as creatively, I’m not working on anything right now other than refilling the old creative well with lots of books. For the next book, I have some vague ideas about space cannibals, but that’s about it.

Do you have a question for our readers?

What makes you want to review a book on Amazon or Goodreads? If you don’t, why not?

Disaster brings everybody together. A cloned corporate assassin; a boy genius and his new robot; a tech-modified gangster with nothing to lose; a beautiful, damaged woman and her unbalanced stalker—these folks couldn't be more different, but somehow they must work together to save their own skin. Stranded in the epicenter of a monumental earthquake in the dystopian slum, Junktown, there is only one way to survive. These unlikely teammates must go...UP THE TOWER.

Enjoy an excerpt:

Before anything else—before the riot, before the flood, before the gap and the deaths and the fires and the pain—before all of that, Ana just wanted to get the hell out of Junktown.

But she was stuck there with Raj, and Raj had all the bodyguards, so she couldn't very well leave on her own. Walk into Junktown without any protection? No, thank you. She had a knife on her, but that was hardly enough. The knife fit neatly in a small, luxury Cardion-brand sheath at her side.

The rest of her outfit was direct out from a fashion magazine. She wore tight black Cardion slacks, her patent leather Aushwere ankle boots sexy and stylish and perfect for inner-city walking. Her dark blue blouse was Cardion again (there had been a sale); already she had noticed the way Raj had been hugging his eyes to how it cupped and clung to her body. He would have been looking a bit more, perhaps, but she wore her favorite Kadaya Sarin-brand leather jacket, allowing her a bit of modesty with the long sleeves and tight collar, despite the thinness of the material. She was a woman dressed to impress, but also was no whore—she had her man. He liked her dressed attractive, but not like some slut. Ana knew what he wanted, because that was her entire life, as she saw it, from now on.

They were inside the ground floor of a tall building. Cleanbots rushed around them, sweeping up dust, guided along by retrofitted eyebots that spied out areas of dust and disrepair.

“Here's where we'll have the lobby,” said Raj, opening his hands out wide to the open space.

Ana had presence of mind to hold her tongue.

What she wanted to say was, “Really, dear? Here in the first possible place that someone could enter from the street? That's where you'll have the lobby? That's so inventive. You're so smart.”

What did she say was, “Oh! It will look beautiful, I'm sure.”

About the Author:
J.P. Lantern lives in the Midwestern US, though his heart and probably some essential parts of his liver and pancreas and whatnot live metaphorically in Texas. He writes speculative science fiction short stories, novellas, and novels which he has deemed "rugged," though he would also be fine with "roughhewn" because that is a terrific and wonderfully apt word.

Full of adventure and discovery, these stories examine complex people in situations fraught with conflict as they search for truth in increasingly violent and complicated worlds.




Twitter: @jplantern

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Friday, September 12, 2014

Heavenly Desire by J.L. Sheppard - Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author will be awarding a $10 Amazon Gift Card to one randomly drawn winner and a bookmark to 20 additional winners via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Will he sacrifice his wings for a woman he loves but can never keep?

Jade Ashley has a past she’d like to forget and a destiny she isn’t aware of. A stranger, Clyde, saves her from an attack and demonstrates extraordinary abilities she believed only she possessed. She soon realizes he’s her guardian angel sent to reunite her with her long lost sisters, who like her are part of a new breed of immortals, Elementals, prophesied to determine the outcome of the upcoming war.

Clyde, an angel, battles the one thing he believes will lead to his fall from heaven—his new found emotions, forbidden among his kind. Nonetheless, the Angel Lords promise to promote him to warrior when he completes his last assignment—to find Jade. When he does, emotions he never knew possible arise. For the first time in two thousand years, he curses his existence, knowing she can never be his. Will he sacrifice his wings for a woman he loves but can't keep?

Enjoy an excerpt:

Clyde swallowed, summoning the courage to ask, “Is she yours?”

“No, idiot,” Jacob spat. “She’s yours.”

A wave of relief washed over him, and he released a breath. Exhausted from his fear, anger, jealousy and the scorching pain eating him alive, he didn’t respond to Jacob’s goad. He knew, despite what everyone else believed, Ashley wasn’t his because he was an angel.

She wasn’t Jacob’s either, but he knew every time Ashley spent time with another immortal male his fear would again rear its head. It would only happen so many times before she met him—her mate. Each time, it would be more painful than the last.

Before he found the energy to turn and walk away, he acknowledged: If it hurts this bad now, when she finds him, it’ll kill me.

About the Author:
J.L. Sheppard was born and raised in Miami, Florida where she still lives with her husband. As a child, her greatest aspiration was to become a writer. She read often, kept a journal and wrote countless poems. She attended Florida International University and graduated in 2008 with a Bachelors in Communications. During her senior year, she interned at NBC Miami, WTVJ. Following the internship, she was hired and worked in the News Department for three years.

It wasn’t until 2011 that she set her heart and mind into writing her first completed novel, Demon King’s Desire, which was published in January of 2013.

Besides reading and writing, she enjoys traveling and spending quality time with family and friends.

Previous Releases:

Demon King’s Desire, Elemental Sisters I: January 2013
Burdened by Desire, Elemental Sisters II: January 2014


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Thursday, September 11, 2014

Relationship by A. William Benitez - Q&A and Giveaway

VBT Relationship Tour Banner copy

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author will be awarding a $50 Amazon GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

If someone were writing a story about you, what would your blurb say?

They would say that he worked all his life at many different things and loved sharing his experiences with others and teaching them how they could do anything that he did. He loved to write and always wrote about first hand experiences.

Would you tell us a little about your newest release that isn't in the blurb?

I first got the idea for this book about fifteen years ago when my wife Barbara and I were invited to speak about our relationship at the meditation group of which we were members. We had been in the group for some time and some of the members were interested in how we managed to get on so well. The presentation was well received and the response was the seed for this book.

When I told Barbara my idea and she was surprised and cautioned me by saying that she wouldn’t dare write such a book because it was such a varied topic with so many nuances. Since she is obviously a better writer, that caused me to hesitate for a while but then I jumped in.

Over the past fifteen years I made a few attempts to get this book written but was never satisfied with the results and put it aside each time. Early this year, for some unknown reason, I felt ready to tackle this huge topic and jumped in again. When I finished the first draft Barbara edited it and liked it except for the organization and I spent another month working on that.

During that time it became clear that I had to focus only on the areas of relationship I considered critical to a happy and healthy relationship. That’s when the title came to me because it was notes on those aspects of relationship. At that point I felt good about the book and I sent the final draft to several people whose opinion I value. The response was positive and their comments appear at the front of the book. I don’t see myself as an expert on relationship but I definitely have a lot to share that may be helpful to others.

Relationship: Notes on Love, Mutual Respect, Boundaries, Marriage, and Divorce contains ten chapters including What is Love, What is A Good Relationship, Fostering and Nurturing Relationships, Harming Relationships, Mutual Respect, Boundaries, Marriage, Breakups and Divorce, Helpful Tips, Final Thoughts, plus a Preface and an Introduction.

The first chapter, What is Love, was the most difficult because I felt from the beginning that establishing a definition for love was important to the book and that seemed like an impossible task for a while. I could easily state what love isn’t but not what it is. I finally came up with a definition that I was comfortable to use as part of the book.

This book definitely doesn’t have all the answers for how to have a happy and healthy relationship and I certainly don’t see myself as an expert on the topic but I do have a lot to share that may be helpful to others. I hope readers find it of real value.

MEDIA KIT FrontCoverFullWhen I decided to write this book on relationship, my wife Barbara was surprised and cautioned me by saying that she would not dare write such a book because it was such a varied topic with so many nuances. That scared me because she is certainly more qualified to write about relationship than I am. I hesitated for a while but then I jumped in.

I have written about relationship before but was not satisfied with the results but now, for some unknown reason, I felt ready to tackle this huge topic and feel good about this book. I don’t see myself as an expert on relationship but I definitely have a lot to share that may be helpful to others.

The book contains ten chapters including What is Love, What is A Good Relationship, Fostering and Nurturing Relationships, Harming Relationships, Mutual Respect, Boundaries, Marriage, Breakups and Divorce, Helpful Tips, Final Thoughts, plus a Preface and an Introduction.

About the AuthorI spent most of my adult life self-employed after being born into the construction business. I worked with my father and then spent more than ten years as a general contractor, building homes and commercial buildings in Tampa, Florida.

For more than twelve years, I worked as a government official running housing related programs for the City of Tampa and then operated a publishing and consulting business on housing rehabilitation. During this time, I testified on this subject before the Housing Sub Committee of the U.S. Congress.

For several years, I operated an active woodworking business in Tampa, Florida and then in Austin, Texas. My cabinets, furniture, and carvings can be found in private homes, businesses, churches, and public buildings in both cities.

In 1996, I began working for the Hyatt Regency in Austin, Texas and am now the IT Manager.

In 2007 I established a new writing and publishing business called Positive Imaging, LLC and now write and publish how to books.

My first marriage ended after 17 years and I remained single for 14 years before marrying Barbara. We have been married over twenty-three years and share a happy and healthy relationship. We now live in Austin, Texas.

I learned a great deal from my first marriage and other relationships. However, my years with Barbara have been my most valuable learning and growing experience and definitely the happiest years of my life.

All the information in this book is based on my first-hand experiences, a small amount of research, and discussions with other couples. I sincerely hope that you will find it of real value in your own relationships. If you have any questions or comments, please contact me at:

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