by Angela Smith | May 5, 2016 | Introspective
Wounded Hearts by Jayne Rylon
Men in Blue Series; Book 5
242 Pages
Published: June 2, 2015
Published by: Jayne Rylon
Blurb:
In the year since Ellie escaped The Scientist’s ghastly dungeon, she still can’t stop looking over her shoulder. Or stop feeling guilty over the man who sacrificed so much to save her.
He lost everything. His career, his aspirations—even part of his body. It’s no wonder he wants nothing to do with her. Too bad he’s the only man she can think about.
Lucas has vowed to stay away from Ellie, but not for the reason she thinks. The woman he craves doesn’t need to waste her life taking care of a man with a missing leg, not when she needs to focus on her own healing.
Despite the best matchmaking attempts of the Men in Blue—and their wives—the emotional and physical gap between them seems uncrossable. Until Ellie is threatened again, and the only choice is to work together until she’s safe.
But to stay in the land of the living, they’ll both have to fight through their pain—and relive a few nightmares—to guarantee their demons won’t destroy her future.
Warning: Contains an alpha male with a broken body, but whose best bits are in fine working order. And a woman who survived hell, and is determined to fit enough of their jagged edges together to make a whole. Vivid PTSD flashbacks of sexual violence could be disturbing for some readers.
Purchase Links:
Excerpt:
Lucas kicked back in his leather recliner. It had been his favorite chair until his prosthesis had torn the footrest. Every time he looked at the ragged slash in the damn thing now, it only reminded him of the endless ways in which his life had been altered. He massaged his stump, especially the knee, which ached after the long run he’d pushed himself through earlier.
It’d been nearly seven months since his amputation. He’d never worked harder in his life to get back to “normal”, whatever the hell that was these days. Though he’d trained like a madman when his life had depended on his physical and mental abilities, he was more cut than ever. Endless gym time had guaranteed it. His gaze wandered down his ripped, freshly tattooed chest and the muscles of his abdomen, which were pretty damn defined, even while he slouched, completely relaxed.
Or as close to it as he ever got.
He picked up a controller and turned on his gaming console, ready to slay some aliens and save the human race again. Like he did most nights, until he nodded off in this piece of shit chair, which now sported a dent the size and shape of his ass. He couldn’t believe how much he sat. Before, he’d been active, only getting horizontal to hook up with a fine woman or grab a few hours’ rest before heading to the next assignment. Now he spent most of his time outside of his rehab efforts here, hoping to settle his mind enough to doze off. Sometimes, it was the only way he could sleep at all.
Lucas figured he’d give his other leg to be back out there, making a difference in the world. Except he knew if he tried, he’d only put others at risk. Endangering his team was something he would never do. Despite all his effort and therapy, he’d never be as agile, as stealthy or—probably most important—as mentally unhindered as he’d been before his injury. Blending in and hiding his identity on covert ops would be impossible with such an easy tell for his enemies to discover. The military probably assumed they’d done him a favor by medically discharging him with full salary and benefits for the rest of his life.
He scrubbed his hand over his face.
Then again, he wouldn’t take his leg back if it meant the evil he’d witnessed the day it had been crushed went unchecked. Often, he dreamt of that closing gate and his last ditch effort to keep it from trapping victims—Ellie included—inside a ghastly prison by using his body as a doorstop. They’d gotten her out of The Scientist’s clutches. Not in time to avoid being wounded, at least as badly as he had been, but in time to keep her—and dozens of other innocents like her—alive.
Both of them had survived, if in one hell of a state. His partner, Steve, hadn’t been as lucky.
Breath wheezed out of Lucas as he remembered the look on Ellie’s drugged face when their friend Lily had hauled her from the cloud of Sex Offender that had turned her fellow prisoners into monsters that had attacked her. During the tenure of his career, it was the single most disgusting thing he’d ever witnessed. Insane with chemically induced lust of her own, she had somehow struggled against the potent concoction.
The pure fight she’d shown in escaping the hellhole they’d yanked her out of had made it impossible for him to quit, even as his leg had screamed in agony. She’d clearly been assaulted. Repeatedly. Her moans and cries had been like an audible interpretation of his own debilitating pain as Jeremy had helped him hobble on his destroyed leg to relative safety. The sound of her terror was burned into his memory.
His fingers clamped on the arm of the chair, threatening to make more holes in the upholstery.
Recollections like that made him feel sick for wanting her. How could she ever welcome the kind of primal advances that had taken center stage in the thoughts he’d had of her since then? Why would she, or any sane woman, want a man like him now?
“Fuck.” He pounded his fist on his thigh, welcoming the thud that distracted him from his downward-spiraling thoughts.
Staring at the ceiling, he drew in a ragged breath and groaned.
After a solid five minutes spent wrestling the urge to blank out his overactive mind on the pain pills prescribed to him, his phone buzzed on the side table nearby.
Please don’t be Ellie.
Tonight he might not have the strength to ignore it, letting her go to voicemail then listening to her messages at night when he was wide awake. His fingers curled inward. Frequent calls from her were hard to resist. Even tougher than the siren song of his narcotics, which he’d been trying to wean himself off entirely. Late-night rings like these meant she probably slept as shittily as he did. Her attempts to contact him had slowed recently, coming fewer and farther between. While he’d tried to be happy about that, the fact was he missed seeing her light up his screen. That barest of contact had the power to make him smile. At least for a moment, until he remembered the shit ton of reasons they couldn’t be together.
The good thing about having a detachable foot was that he could actually shove it up his own ass if he kept acting like an idiot.
Lucas couldn’t help himself—he snatched the vibrating phone, hoping for a glimpse of her name or the profile picture he’d set for her contact. It was a formal shot of them, all dressed up, that had been taken at Lily and JRad’s wedding. She’d looked more gorgeous than usual that day. Hell, they’d even danced together once as he deluded himself into believing his leg might still get better despite the advice of his doctors, who’d encouraged him to amputate immediately.
Turned out wearing a prosthesis was actually better than hanging on to a mangled meat foot when it came to living an active lifestyle. He’d been screwed even then, but at least his denial had been strong enough that he’d enjoyed one last happy occasion with his friends. And Ellie.
It always came back to her.
“Son of a bitch!” he roared at himself. Especially since it wasn’t even her calling.
Instead, the face that flashed onscreen belonged to Jeremy Radisson, though the label said “JRad”, since his friends on the force used that nickname for the geeky cyber detective with an impressive Dominant streak.
A wave of mingled relief and disappointment washed through Lucas. Anxiety too. It was always kind of awkward talking to one of the guys who could understand exactly what he had lost—camaraderie, purpose, honor—along with his leg. Still, part of him was glad to have someone to talk to in the darkness.
Speaking of, why the hell was the dude calling so close to midnight? It must be important. Lucas swiped his thumb across the phone to answer.
Before he even had a chance to say hello, Jeremy was talking in a hurried, hushed rumble.
“Hey Lucas,” JRad greeted him with a cautious edge to his tone. This couldn’t be good.
“What’s up?” The guy never buzzed him this late. None of their mutual friends did anymore either, though they all worked fucked up shifts. Ah, the life of a peacekeeper.
It was like they didn’t want to interrupt his beauty sleep in case that would make his fucking leg grow back. In the military, especially his covert branch, he hadn’t been used to people tiptoeing around him.
He found he didn’t like it much now that he was disabled either.
“Wish I could say this was a social call. Sorry.” It felt oddly good that the first ten minutes of their discussion wasn’t something along the lines of, How are you feeling today, buddy?
Oh fine, just missing a foot, an ankle, and most of my shin, that’s all. Could be worse, could’ve had my dick chopped off. Ha ha…
In other words, the same old bullshit he’d been reciting for months now.
They dove into the important stuff without fucking around with feelings and shit. Finally, something like his regular modus operandi. Years of late-night summons, life-or-death emergencies and running on adrenaline had made his recent couch potato act all the more unnerving.
“The rest of the Men in Blue and I are on a case. Getting close to cracking it.” JRad’s urgency penetrated Lucas’s gloomy thoughts.
“You need help with something?” Sometimes they made use of his government connections or picked his brain, which was essentially a database on immoral dealings and the inner workings of criminal organizations after nearly two decades combating them.
“Yeah, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course not. How can I help?” Lucas sat straighter, leaning forward in his ruined seat.
“It’s the girls—”
“Ah, shit. Some pussy assignment? I thought you actually needed me for important shit.” He deflated, sinking into the cushions again.
“They’re the most valuable things in our lives,” JRad was quick to correct him. “You know we wouldn’t trust their safety to just anyone.”
“Be honest, you’re trying to make me feel useful here.” He stopped short of rolling his eyes. Badass soldiers, even retired ones, did not roll their eyes. “What’s next? A crossing-guard vest? Jesus, JRad. Fuck off.”
“Hey wait. Don’t hang up. Shit. We need you.” A ragged breath from JRad convinced Lucas not to punch the end button just yet. “We’re stuck on this case. There’s no way we can bail now. Not even one of us could sneak out without blowing our cover. Sending in anyone else from the station would risk spooking Ellie.”
“Ellie?” Lucas could have decked himself for repeating her name. Letting the other guy know he was as obsessed as ever with the beautiful young woman wouldn’t be in his best interest. Not tonight or any time in the future when the guys and their ladies decided for the millionth time to try and play matchmaker with a hopeless pairing.
“Yeah.”
“What’s she got to do with this?” Fuck it, why hide it when it was obvious to everyone anyway exactly how much he wanted her? Felt responsible for her somehow. It was pretty common in their line of work, actually, to get attached to certain people they had a hand in helping.
Wasn’t smart, though.
“I guess Lily, Jambrea, Izzy, Lacey and Shari convinced her to go out to that new casino north of the city with them tonight.”
“Now I know you’re screwing with me.” Lucas took the phone from his ear for a second to glare at JRad’s picture. What kind of game was he playing? Ellie could hardly stand a stroll in a garden, never mind the chaos of a casino. She spooked as easily as a soft, pretty bunny. Not that he blamed her in the least.
Besides, most people wouldn’t notice because of the tough mask she wore. But he was a trained observer. So were the rest of the Men in Blue. The tick of her sculpted jaw or the rapid blink of her mesmerizing blue eyes, which caused thick lashes to flutter onto the pale, creamy skin of her cheeks—all of it screamed how scared shitless she was of the world around her.
Lucas figured she was the bravest woman he’d ever met for not falling apart with that bucket-load of terror coursing through her veins constantly. The adrenaline aftereffects alone had to be exhausting to her system.
“I’m not shitting you.” JRad huffed at that. “I didn’t think they’d con her into doing it either, but they did. She’s getting better lately, Lucas. Healing. Not so raw as she used to be. Which you’d know if you hadn’t cut her out of your life, dickhead.”
“Stick to the facts.” He’d had enough lectures from her five female cohorts. Additional shit from JRad was entirely unnecessary.
“Look, they went out tonight. Sexy as hell. The six of them dressed up, sending us enough naughty selfies to torture us while we’re stuck in this damn apartment spying on druggies.” His clear sexual frustration had Lucas grinning. Too bad, so sad. The man would eventually go home to his feisty sometimes-submissive-but-only-for-him Mistress Lily soon enough.
“At least Matt and Clint can suck each other off in the bathroom. Mason and Tyler, too. It’s just you and Razor that are screwed, huh?” Lucas shrugged, though no one could see him and despite the fact that he knew they wouldn’t. Not on the clock. They took their jobs as seriously as he had once.
“Anyway, the girls headed over there after dinner at some fancy place downtown. Ten minutes ago our phones started lighting up at once. Scared the shit out of us,” JRad confessed. Each of their ladies had fought through some hard times and survived their own personal threats. It had their guys on edge still.
“They’re okay?” Hopefully they hadn’t been in a car wreck or something like that. Lucas swallowed hard, preparing himself for bad news.
“Actually, yes.”
“Then what the hell?” He scratched his head.
“Turns out Ellie must have taken her lucky rabbit’s foot along.” JRad paused, as if he’d realized the absurdity of that mental image for Lucas.
Instead of getting pissed or being offended, he laughed. “Huh. Wonder if some bunny’s got my damn foot in its pocket.”
“Er—”
“Anyway, she’s up for the night? Beating the house? Are they partying to celebrate? Need a designated driver or something?” He steered them back to their discussion. Good for Ellie. He knew money was tight. Had contributed as much as he could manage as an anonymous donor to the fund he’d set up for her recovery before handing it off to the Men in Blue to administer so she wouldn’t get suspicious.
“We’re not talking about a couple hundred bucks here, Lucas.” JRad sighed. “She won almost fifty-grand on the fucking penny slots. Cash. They’re driving home with it right now.”
“Are you shitting me?” Call him cynical, but that seemed nearly impossible. In his world, that usually meant something was up. “That place isn’t going to be in business long if they’re handing out sacks of money like that. Why wouldn’t they have written her a check?”
“Lily says the claim form wasn’t clear and they didn’t feel like wading through the paperwork again to switch the payment type. Six smoking-hot women and a huge chunk of cash. You know every man in that place noticed them and they’re going to talk. Shit, it’s probably plastered all over social media by now. TV will be next. That’s a fuck ton of temptation. Maybe you could stay with Ellie tonight and escort her to make a deposit once the bank opens in the morning?” JRad cursed under his breath. “I know that’s not ideal for either of you considering the circumstances…”
“Don’t worry about my end of things. It’s fine. She shouldn’t be alone with that much money on hand. People have done stupid things for less. Sleeping in my car, or her backyard, isn’t a problem either. I’ll just go over and let her know I’m out there, keeping an eye on her place.” Lucas might have been avoiding her, but only for their own good. He cared for her. A lot. If she was in danger, he would be there, regardless of their twisted personal relationship.
Meet Jayne Rylon~
Jayne Rylon is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author. She received the 2011 Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award for Best Indie Erotic Romance. Her stories used to begin as daydreams in seemingly endless business meetings, but now she is a full time author, who employs the skills she learned from her straight-laced corporate existence in the business of writing. She lives in Ohio with two cats and her husband, the infamous Mr. Rylon. When she can escape her purple office, she loves to travel the world, avoid speeding tickets in her beloved Sky, and–of course–read.
Connect with Jayne~
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by Angela Smith | May 4, 2016 | Introspective
Tag Chaser by Kandi Steiner
Chaser Series
332 Pages
Published: October 13, 2013
Published by: Kandi Steiner
Blurb:
Paisley Bronson is a 27 year old successful advertising professional, but the most exciting part of her life happens outside of work. Claiming the life of a Tag Chaser toward the end of her college career has taught her one thing: Never get too close. She has enjoyed her dating lifestyle, but when her best friend makes a bet that she won’t ever be able to date a normal guy, her competitive nature takes control and she vows to change the game.
When Paisley meets the incredibly handsome and practically perfect Corbin Ray, she begins to think keeping her word might be easier than she thought. But when an accidental discovery reveals that Corbin is in the Army, she knows she must run the other way and never look back. Although it kills her, she aims to move on and look for a new prospect.
There’s just one small problem.
Paisley’s been assigned a new client at work, and his name is Corbin Ray.
Will Paisley and Corbin give in to the chemistry between them, or will their past and present complications keep them apart?
Fall in love with this fun and irresistibly naughty game of cat and mouse.
Purchase Links:
Excerpt:
The waitress returns with our plates just in time, saving me from trying to form a sentence. His eyes never leave mine as she sets the dishes down. When she’s gone again, he leans toward me. “Can I just be completely honest with you right now, Paisley?”
I nod, biting my lip and trying to contain the heat building inside me.
He pulls me closer, his mouth hovering right over my neck. “I think you’re incredibly beautiful,” he breathes, his breath hot as he gently nips at my skin. “I don’t know why, but I am drawn to you.”
My breath is hitched in my throat and my mouth has fallen open in a soft “o.” I close my eyes and give in to the electricity between us. He moves his lips from my neck and speaks softly into my ear, sending a current racing down my body.
“And at the risk of being too forward, I would really like to take you back to my hotel.”
Dear God, yes. YES. YES. YES.
He leans back, his hand still holding mine and his gaze intensified. I swallow and bite my lip again, trying to steady the shakiness in my voice as I say the only word I can manage.
“Okay.”
The next thing I know we’re tangled together in the back of a cab, our pizza left untouched on the table.
Meet Kandi Steiner~
Kandi Steiner is a Creative Writing and Advertising/Public Relations graduate from the University of Central Florida living in Tampa with her husband. Kandi works full time as a social media specialist, but also works part time as a Zumba fitness instructor and blackjack dealer.
Kandi started writing back in the 4th grade after reading the first Harry Potter installment. In 6th grade, she wrote and edited her own newspaper and distributed to her classmates. Eventually, the principal caught on and the newspaper was quickly halted, though Kandi tried fighting for her “freedom of press.” She took particular interest in writing romance after college, as she has always been a die hard hopeless romantic (like most girls brought up on Disney movies).
When Kandi isn’t working or writing, you can find her reading books of all kinds, talking with her extremely vocal cat, and spending time with her friends and family. She enjoys beach days, movie marathons, live music, craft beer and sweet wine – not necessarily in that order.
Connect with Kandi~
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by Angela Smith | May 3, 2016 | Introspective
Craving by Helen Hardt
Steel Brothers Saga; Book 1
288 Pages
Published: May 3, 2016
Published by: Waterhouse Press
Blurb:
After being left at the altar, Jade Roberts seeks solace at her best friend’s ranch on the Colorado western slope. Her humiliation still ripe, she doesn’t expect to be attracted to her friend’s reticent brother, but when the gorgeous cowboy kisses her, all bets are off.
Talon Steel is broken. Having never fully healed from a horrific childhood trauma, he simply exists, taking from women what is offered and giving nothing in return…until Jade Roberts catapults into his life. She is beautiful, sweet, and giving, and his desire for her becomes a craving he fears he’ll never be able to satisfy.
Passion sizzles between the two lovers…but long-buried secrets haunt them both and may eventually tear them apart.
Purchase Links:
Excerpt:
His words crept under my skin, and my hackles rose. Why did everything he said cut through me like an ice pick?
“You know, you hardly know me. Why are you being so judgmental?”
“I know you more than you think, blue eyes. I know you’ve had a life so full of privilege that the worst thing in the world that has ever happened to you is you got humiliated on your wedding day.”
“For your information, my life has not been full of privilege. I had a modest upbringing”—I did a one-eighty around his gourmet kitchen, Viking stove and all—“which clearly you did not.”
He chuckled again, and goddamnit, my dander rose.
“Blue eyes, there are some things money can’t buy. Modest upbringing or not, you had a college education. You had a law school education. Once you pass the bar, you’ll be able to get a job that pays decent money. And with your looks and that luscious body of yours, you’ll have no problem attracting another guy in no time. So don’t tell me you don’t have privilege.”
I had to think to understand his last words. I was stuck on the “looks and luscious body” part. Was he attracted to me? This western god? Attracted to me?
I opened my mouth to speak, but before any words came out, he grabbed my arm, pulled me toward him, and crushed his mouth to mine.
The kiss was raw. He forced his tongue between my lips and took, just took.
My legs quivered. Oh, God…
Seven years of kissing Colin…and it had never been like this.
He devoured me, and I melted into him. He grabbed the back of my hair and yanked on it as he continued to plunder my mouth. Electric jolts arrowed straight to my pussy. No man had ever yanked on my hair before, and oh my God… I returned his kiss with greed. Such a soothing salve for my shattered ego. This man…found me attractive… Was kissing me—
He ripped his mouth from mine and sucked on my neck, trailing tiny kisses up to my earlobe.
“God, blue eyes…”
My legs nearly gave way, but he steadied me.
“That guy you almost married,” he whispered into my ear. “Did he ever kiss you like this, blue eyes?”
Meet Helen Hardt~
Helen Hardt is an attorney and stay-at-home mom turned award-winning author. She’s been writing stories since the first grade, when her aspiring writer father encouraged her and gave her a small metal file cabinet with “Helen’s Story Box” written on it in permanent marker. She began her first novel, a young adult romance, in the eighth grade. Although it will never see the light of day, she still has the manuscript that she typed on the old IBM Selectric.
She stopped writing to attend college and law school. She met her real-life hero in law school, and they live in Colorado with her two teenage sons. Helen writes contemporary, historical, paranormal, and erotic romance. Her non-writing interest include Harley rides with her husband, attending her sons’ sports and music performances, traveling, and Taekwondo (she’s a blackbelt.)
Connect with Helen~
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by Angela Smith | May 2, 2016 | Introspective
Ravel by Shari J. Ryan
272 Pages
Published: November 12, 2015
Published By: Gravity – A Booktrope Imprint
Blurb:
At twenty-three, I’m left with a decision. The outcome could be life or death.
Trent hit me once, and I cried. Then he hit me again. And again. After a while, I got used to it, as I slept on the floor beside his bed, night after night.
Everyone told me to leave him, but I can’t. He won’t let me.
The moment I wanted to give up on myself and any form of hope, Kemper—a tall, sexy Marine just home from Afghanistan walked into my bar. With one look in his eyes, I saw pain that mirrored my own.
At first, I thought maybe he would be my prince charming, riding in to save me, but all it took was one tragedy for me to remember…fairy tales don’t exist in real life.
*The content in this book discusses domestic violence and is suitable for readers over 18*
Buy Links:
Excerpt:
“That’s twice in one day I’ve had to save you,” Kemper says, his soft voice soothing my nerves as he presses a cool compress against my forehead. His other hand is cupped around my cheek. No one has ever cared enough to save me. Kemper’s face is inches from mine and I can smell the cool mint on his breath from the gum he’s been chewing.
“I guess so,” I mutter, falling a little deeper into his gaze.
His thumb runs down the length of my nose, and while most of me is feeling pain, that sensation still drives quivers through my body. “Does that hurt?” he asks.
I shake my head, “Not too much,” I say, noticing a slight ache in my neck.
His thumb moves over to my right cheekbone and he presses gently. “How about that?” All I feel is the warmth from his skin. I shake my head again. He does the same for my left cheekbone. This time I wince. It hurts. I clench my eyes and I hear him yell to someone to grab ice. “Is this the first time he’s hit you?” Kemper’s brows are bowed toward his nose while his thumb continues to trace small circles around my cheek. I’d rather lean into his hand than respond.
In truth, I just don’t want to answer him, but he’s still staring at me, waiting for a response. I look down, away from his gaze. The ache in my chest, mixed with feeling like a weak woman, makes me want to cry, but I won’t cry in front of all these people. His finger curls under my chin and he tilts my face back up to look at him. His eyes are kind and caring, yet pained at the same time. The light is hitting them at the perfect angle, giving them the slightest shimmer in the center of each pupil. Then there are his lips—I can’t stop looking at those either. They’re full and capable. They look like they have the ability to kiss in a way I’ve definitely never been kissed. I want to touch his lips, but I belong to Trent—the asshole that just hit me.
Meet Shari J Ryan~
International Bestselling Author, Shari J. Ryan, hails from Central Massachusetts where she lives with her husband and two lively little boys.
Shari has always had an active imagination and enjoys losing herself in the fictional worlds she creates.
When Shari isn’t writing or designing book covers, she can usually be found cleaning toys up off the floor.
Connect with Shari~
~Enter our month long Giveaway~
by Angela Smith | May 1, 2016 | Introspective
Soldier’s Heart by Megan Green
Wounded Love; Book 2
205 Pages
Published: March 29, 2016
Published by: Megan Green
Blurb:
Isaiah Wright is broken. So broken he’s positive he’ll never be fixed again. Surviving every soldier’s worst nightmare is enough for him to want nothing more than to give into the blackness that plagues him.
Emma Nicholls knows pain. Four years after the devastating loss of her fiancé, she’s set up her own business providing service dogs to veterans in an attempt to put her own life back together.
Circumstance brings Isaiah into her life, but neither are prepared for the fire that burns between them. It’s immediate, one broken soul finding solace in another, but it’s also… terrifying.
His soldier’s heart is surrounded by walls ten feet high. But maybe, just maybe, Emma and her brood of trainee service dogs can break through and be the light he so desperately needs.
Purchase Links:
Excerpt:
“Just through here,” I say confidently.
“Are you sure, Wright? I have a bad feeling about this place. Something doesn’t feel right.”
“Trust me. We’ve been watching this area for weeks. The men we’re looking for are on the other side of this wall.”
My men line up, preparing to enter the room.
I lift my hand.
On my count.
One.
Two.
I kick open the door, falling back as I let my men charge into the room.
Everything happens so fast.
A shout in Arabic.
A gunshot.
A clamor of English.
An explosion.
***
I jerk from my bed, my arms raising in a defensive position as I take in the room around me. It’s pitch black, the only semblance of light coming from the digital alarm clock glowing in the corner. By its faint light, I’m able to make out my bed. The chair in the corner covered in yesterday’s clothes. My dresser. I’m in my bedroom. I’m home.
I repeat the words over and over to myself, but they do nothing to calm my frayed nerves. My heart races, my breathing ragged. I feel as if I’m going to crawl right out of my skin. I bring my trembling hand to my face, wiping my sweat-soaked brow.
I sit on the edge of my bed, tucking my head between my knees and taking several deep breaths, like my therapist suggested for when these moments occur. And like every other time this has happened, cowering and deep breathing does jack shit. I stomp out of my bedroom, heading for the medicine cabinet in the hall bathroom. I fling open the cabinet door, grabbing for the pills she gave me for when the breathing exercises don’t work. Fuck breathing exercises. I don’t believe for a minute that shit works for anyone.
I swallow two of the pills, not bothering with water, before placing the bottle back on the shelf and swinging the mirrored door shut. I stare at my reflection. I look like shit. My eyes are bloodshot, the dark circles surrounding them deepening every day. The pallor of my normally copper skin is shocking, even to my own eyes. I splash some water on my face, rubbing at my tired, aching eyes.
My thoughts return to my dream. The same one I’ve had every night for the past six months. I hear the voices. The sound of gunfire. I see the flash of the grenade exploding.
“Fuck it,” I mutter, grabbing the pills again and swallowing three more, this time with a small sip of water from the sink. It’s more than Beth wants me to take. But I need some fucking sleep. I need some fucking silence. I need some fucking oblivion.
I stagger out to the couch, feeling the rush of calm already settling over me. I honestly don’t know why I don’t take these damn pills all the time. They’re so much fucking better than the alternative. I collapse on the couch, pulling a blanket around me before allowing the sweet serenity of sleep to take over.
Meet Megan Green ~
Megan lives in northern Utah with her husband, Adam, and incredibly spoiled dog, Tucker. She spends far too much time reading anything and everything she can get her hands on.
Connect with Megan~
~Enter our month long Giveaway~
by Angela Smith | Apr 30, 2016 | Introspective
Exciting news for the month of May! I’m honored to be a part of a blog tour for the entire month of May, featuring books in tribute of our military. The theme of these stories is that the hero, (or maybe even the heroine), is a soldier or retired vet. There are going to be daily posts featuring a book, an excerpt, etc., throughout many blogs and Facebook pages, including this one, and the women putting this on, from Paging through the Days, are offering many giveaways.
And, because I have two novellas that feature Vietnam Vets, I am offering a bit of my own surprise. Throughout the month, I will be giving away my own stories, music, gift cards, and other fun things (you’ll have to stay tuned to find out). All you have to do is comment, like, or share my posts (not all of them, although the more you do, the more you are entered to win). Also, anyone who signs up for my newsletter this month will be entered to win all of my published novels (in mobi or PDF format), along with the newest one being released in August!
So join me tomorrow for the first post, as We Salute Our Military!
by Angela Smith | Apr 26, 2016 | Guests
Sean Muldoon knows trouble when he sees it, and he sees it in Laney Murphy the minute she passes out in his arms. He thinks she’s a con artist, and she thinks he’s just like everyone else, arrogant and judgmental. Much to Sean’s dismay his family is determined to help Laney and he just doesn’t understand why. That is until he gets to know her and realize under her tough exterior beats a heart of gold.
Excerpt:
“Move, Ace. You’re in my way.”
“Sweetheart, I haven’t even begun to be in your way.” He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. “I will not allow you to hurt Tommy or Molly, so why don’t you pack up your schemes and dreams and hit the road. You won’t get a penny from them. I’ll see to that.”
I have never been known for having an even temper but I’ve worked hard to keep it under control, but not this time.
“Look, asshole, I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. You’re delusional if you think I have any intention of taking a dime from Tommy that I haven’t earned. I pay my way!”
“Sure you do. I ran your fingerprints, darlin’, right off your juice glass from this morning. You’ve got a nice background there, Laney. Pandering? Breaking and entering? Those are great
ways to pay your way, huh? You got a scam to bilk Tommy, but you might as well hit the road running, babe,” He smiled, acting quite pleased with himself. “Tommy and Molly all too often
fall for the sob story and feel sorry for the strays that come along.”
I felt that to my core. Stray? Felt sorry for me? The last thing I needed was anyone’s pity.
But right at the moment the only thing I felt was the need to strike back at Sean. “Stray, huh? “Weren’t you a stray too? They feel sorry for you then? Take you in on pity?” I saw his jaw
tighten and knew I’d scored.
“Leave now and I won’t tell them your plans to take them for a ride,” he growled.
“My plans? You’re so sure about my plans, huh? Wow, you sure are smart, Sean Michael Muldoon. You ran my fingerprints and so now you know my whole life story in one fell swoop? Look, you arrogant ass, you have no idea what my life has been like and a couple of knocks on a police sheet only tells you what your narrow-minded brain wants to hear. But for your parents’ sake, I’ll go and save you the trouble of making a fool out of yourself.”
I tossed the case of champagne at him. He let out a curse, as he lunged to catch the box and I shoved him hard when I went through the doorway. I heard him hit the shelves, rattling bottles and swearing a blue streak. I heard the case of champagne hit the floor with a thud and the sound of breaking glass.
I know I could have done worse and to this day I still have no idea why I didn’t kick him in the nuts, or flat out deck him. I should have done something other than leave. I wanted to do
anything other than leave, but I couldn’t bear having to own up to some of the missteps I had made long ago.
Author Bio:
Galen Rose lives in the Santa Cruz Mountains and is an avid cook, gardener and traveler. Over the years, she has repaired bikes, been a telephone solicitor, a day care aide, managed the order department of a family law publishing firm and for nine years ran her own on-line Celtic jewelry and gifts store. Oh, and you can add in wife and stay-at-home-mom too. A Jill of many trades but not one true color for her parachute, until the day she really sat down to write and kept on writing and hasn’t stopped.
BUY LINKS:
Amazon
Amazon UK
Blog – http://www.galenrose.com/
Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/GalenRose/Pinterest – https://www.pinterest.com/galnrose/
Twitter – https://twitter.com/GalenRose1
Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6423084.Galen_Rose
by Angela Smith | Apr 23, 2016 | Writing
Curiosity hasn’t exactly been advocated as a positive trait to have. Curiosity killed the cat, after all, at least that’s what I’ve always heard.
Most of us are taught at an early age, at least inadvertently, that being curious is dangerous. But being innovative and inquisitive, now those are positive traits.
Is there a difference?
When I was a teenager, and thought I knew everything, my young sister used to annoy me by asking “Why?” It was the four year old question when she was just learning about her world, and yet I told her to stop asking why. I regret that now. Asking why isn’t a bad thing, and I should have been asking that myself.
I recently finished reading A Curious Mind, by Brian Grazer, and I loved it! What a great read on curiosity, leadership and creativity. Not much has changed about the fear of curiosity, and yet it is the reason today we have so many changes in our life. New cell phones in production at every turn. Movies and books and paintings, etc. They are all bred by curiosity, we just don’t always give it the power it deserves.
I work in the law field, which is built from curiosity, and yet we don’t acknowledge that. We are curious how a crime was committed, and yet the main goal becomes proving it was committed. It’s a very scientific field that sometimes robs me of my creativity, and yet it’s one of the most scientifically creative fields out there, to prove how a crime was committed. A huge puzzle.
Authors have to be curious. Curious authors are good authors, and yet they might not admit that term. I never did, until after reading that book.
I’m not what I’d consider a naturally curious person. I’ve always enjoyed learning new things but never considered myself curious. And yet “innovation is built from curiosity”.
So today, my writers tip is to be more curious. Curiosity can be simple. We don’t have to solve all of life’s problems, and we might not ever get to be as curious as Brian Grazer, the co-owner, with Ron Howard, of Imagine Entertainment. But curiosity breeds creativity, innovation, and even leadership. So don’t be afraid to be curious!
by Angela Smith | Apr 5, 2016 | Guests
GIVEAWAY ALERT: Enter to win a $25 Amazon Gift Card below!
Thanks for inviting me to your blog today, Angela.
Thanks for stopping by! I can’t wait to hear about The Cavanaugh House. What intrigues you most about this story?
What most intrigues me about The Cavanaugh House is how the idea for the book came to me. The first sentence scrolled through my head as I drove along a busy urban highway on a road trip with my husband Rich. Other sentences followed and I knew a book was being conceived. Along with the sentences came the clear image of a house which I knew would play a major role in the story and was based on a childhood memory. I felt panicky because I was driving and couldn’t write my ideas down. When Rich woke up, I told him about the story in great detail hoping between the two of us we could remember. But those details were etched in my brain and stayed with me until I could commit them to paper. The next day, I saw the exact house I had imagined sitting desolate and deserted by the highway. My husband took photos of it, and one of them became my book cover. Add to that the tale of a ghost in a haunted winery we visited, and voilà, The Cavanaugh House was born.
Wow, that’s awesome. And the fact you actually saw the house while on your trip makes it more so. What was your favorite part of writing The Cavanaugh House?
I’m a pantser, that is someone who writes by the seat of my pants. My favorite part of writing all of my books is when I am surprised by a turn of events that I didn’t see coming, or some synchronicity that occurs and I don’t realize it until the book is complete. For example, in my first book, Love’s Destiny, someone knocks on the front door. I didn’t know who it was until my protagonist, Emily, opened the door and discovered that with me. I love that kind of stuff! Another is a connection between two names in The Cavanaugh House. I can’t reveal the connection because it gives away the ending, but it was pretty cool when I realized it. I thought, how the heck did that happen?
That’s always a great feeling, and I love it when we as writers are surprised by our stories. Do you have a specific writing style?
Writing The Cavanaugh House was very different from writing my two historical romances. In my first two books, I kept the language and dialogue more formal as it would have been in the 18th century. I even searched my manuscript for apostrophes to eliminate any contraction like can’t or don’t. I wanted the language elevated to keep the atmosphere of formality. One editor caught a character saying, “Hello” and cut it because that word wasn’t used until the invention of the telephone. I had to use “Good morning” or “Good day.” It was a relief to set The Cavanaugh House in 1968 where I could use contractions, idioms, even slang if I wanted to. So my writing style for The Cavanaugh House was much more contemporary.
If you were stranded on a deserted island and could only take one book with you, what would you take?
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee Even though I taught that book for years, I’ve never tired of it.
If you were stranded on a deserted island and could only take one song with you, what would you take?
“Don’t Stop Believing” by Journey
Both great choices! Are you working on any projects right now?
I have two projects in the works right now. I’ve completed a rough draft of Buried Secrets, the sequel to The Cavanaugh House. I put it away for a while because I needed distance from it so I could come back and revise it with fresh eyes. I’ve also started the third book in my Passionate Patriots series, Love’s Courage. I love the plot line in this book, so it will be fun to research.
Do you see writing as a career?
Yes. I retired from teaching early so I could pursue writing full time. I work at my craft everyday, though as a hybrid author (both traditionally and self-published) I see marketing as a career as well LOL.
What advice would you give to your younger self?
Start writing earlier in life. Don’t wait until you have time—make time.
Which famous person, living or dead would you like to meet and why?
William Shakespeare. I love words, and many of the words and phrases we commonly use today were invented by Shakespeare. For example, arouse, blushing, undress (I see a pattern here) gnarled, varied, zany. Sometimes when I’m writing I want to make up words because I can’t find the exact word I need. In The Cavanaugh House, I thought I’d made up the word “scritch” for the sound Jesse hears when the ghost appears. I didn’t want to use “scratch” because it has too many connotations, so “scritch” was what I settled on—a softer sound, a haunting sound. But I discovered it’s been used before. Hey, Will, I gave it a try.
The Cavanaugh House excerpt:
This house held secrets. Secrets that wafted through rotting window sashes on the winter wind. Secrets that spiders wove into webs anchored between the ceiling and walls. Secrets that scuttled on the feet of cockroaches across stained kitchen linoleum and scurried into its cracks. Secrets that peered from holes in the baseboard from glinting mouse eyes. This house held the secrets close to its bosom where they had slept for decades. No one had disturbed these secrets in all the years the house sat decaying from neglect. There was no reason to, and there was no desire.
The Cavanaugh House blurb:
When Jesse Graham unlocks the door to the deserted house she inherited from her Aunt Helen, she doesn’t realize she’s unlocking secrets that had lain dormant for years. Reeling from a broken engagement to acclaimed musician Robert Cronmiller, Jesse wants to leave the city where her name is linked to his in all the society pages. Her best friend Maggie, aka Sister Angelina, convinces her to take a job at a private girls’ school in the pastoral Finger Lakes region of upstate New York. Anticipating a quiet, revitalizing life in her aunt’s deserted house, Jesse is instead thrown into a maze of danger. Questions about her aunt’s death lead Jesse to investigate events surrounding it and the people involved, but she uncovers a web of deceit that reaches far beyond the occurrences of over two decades earlier. Still dejected from her broken engagement, Jesse finds it difficult to trust anyone, even her self-absorbed mother. Joe Riley is irresistible, but secrets obstruct involvement with him until Jesse can solve the secrets of the Cavanaugh House. Someone doesn’t want those secrets unearthed and will stop at nothing, even murder, to keep them hidden.
Thank you very much for taking the time out of your busy schedule to take part in this interview.
Thank you for hosting me today, Angela.
How can readers discover more about you and you work?
My audiobook is now available and I am celebrating with a giveaway on my website. You can enter it below!
My books are available Amazon, and my audiobook is available on:
Audible
Amazon
iTunes
Visit me at:
Website: www.elizabethmeyette.com
Blog: www.elizabethmeyette.com/blog
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/elizabethfmeyette/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/efmeyette
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6153760.Elizabeth_Meyette
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/bettymeyette/
Enter the Giveaway for a $25 Amazon Gift Card! Click here: GIVEAWAY
by Angela Smith | Mar 26, 2016 | Introspective, Writing
I can’t believe it’s been a month since my last post! So many things have happened. Hubby and I have been busy with our remodel, working full time, and my writing. I have a new contract for a new book, and we’re getting ready for a pretty big trial at work.
I took a vacation this past week to just try to get some stuff done at home, on my story, and a little free time for myself before I had a major burn out at work. Which was close, believe me. Some days, you just need to take some time off and get away from it all, but hubby and I couldn’t take an actual vacation at this time. He would still be working, and it wasn’t good timing for us.
I had plans and goals for my days off, even plotted out the rest of my story (which is basically unheard of in my world), but I was quickly struck, quite literally, with the realization that none of that mattered. I had a small injury/accident that could have been huge, but it took me away from my writing for a few days. Not only that, but once I got the ability to write again, I didn’t want to. I have these 3 ideas, trying to work on most of them, and I had absolutely no interest. There were moments I just sat staring at the sky. It was those moments I realized I needed the most. When I told my husband I should be doing this and that and I’m not getting any work on the house (remodeling) done, he reminded me of why I fell in love with him. He told me it’s my vacation, and that I shouldn’t feel like I should be accomplishing something every hour. I could write something outside of my interest, like horror, or I should be doing something like a hobby, or a nap. A nap? What in the world is a nap? And I was so close to burn out that I had forgotten what a hobby even was, or how to enjoy one.
But alas, the downtime helped tremendously. I surrounded myself with peace and quiet, with positive self-talk, yoga, and even positive podcasts, and lots of Vitamin D. I had a doctor appointment on one of those days, and treated myself to a hair appointment, and wrote some on my phone. Something I’d never been able to do before either. After all, I need my office and a computer, or at least the outdoors and a notebook. I got outside my comfort zone, several times, and that’s exactly what I needed.
So my writing tip of the day is to get outside of your comfort zone. Go somewhere different. Even if it’s a day, a half day, or an hour. If you have a town river and an hour lunch break, go there for lunch (something I used to do all the time that I no longer do). If you work full time and write, it’s really, really hard. If you work full time and do anything, it’s really, really hard.
My husband and I were able to take a half a day off and go Jeeping off-road, something we love to do that we haven’t done in a long time. It was a fabulous break, but the break I had, all alone during the week, was just what I needed to get my head back on straight so that I could actually enjoy this day trip. So if you’re feeling burned out from writing or work or anything, don’t be afraid to take a break. For writers, the pressure to write every day, to produce something every few months, is overwhelming, sometimes to the point of never getting started. If you can only write a book a year, it’s something! So don’t be afraid to take breaks!
One more thing I learned while on vacation. I spent a lot of times outdoors with the cats I take care of. They have taught me so much over the years, but the one thing I leave you with today is:
Cats are always eager! Eager to explore, eat, taste, relish life, experience, and especially play! So be eager to experience life and to do new things.
And if you get stuck, be eager to dig yourself out, even if the path is a bit rocky! Either that, or just get on that rock and kick back for a while!
by Angela Smith | Feb 27, 2016 | Writing
Welcome to Writersday! Okay, it was supposed to be a weekly post, but I have recognized my limits and realized there is no way I can make a post about writing (or possibly any post) once a week. So now Writersday will be the last Saturday of the month! (For now, anyway.)
This Writersday, I want to talk about limitations. The limitations we put on ourselves, on others, and the limitations others put on us (or, at least, we feel they are putting on us).
As a writer, I have felt the heavy weight of limitations. Every time someone asks me about my writing, I feel they are asking only because they are judging. I postponed my dream for years because of those constraints and the fear of being judged. Then I realized I didn’t care what anyone else thought. Once I “got out of the closet” so to speak, I realized many people actually supported me! And those that didn’t? There’s something wrong with them, obviously.
Hey, going after your dream is never easy. There’re plenty of quotes to remind us. For me, I love my job (of non-writing), but I also love my writing. I have to find a balance (getting up early, sometimes staying up late, and sometimes just being too darn tired to write). Having a full time job does make marketing much harder (time, effort, and apprehension), but there’s no explanation (at least right now) of how it feels when a scene comes together.
Writing is an art, like painting, drawing, photography, music, or any other art form. We all feel judged and adjudicated when it comes to our art. Some people will like it, and some will never understand it. That’s when I have to do like Neil Gaimain said and “Trust dreams, trust your heart, and trust your story.” Trusting isn’t always easy, but, at least when it comes to our writing, we have to trust ourselves.
I don’t write to make a ton of money. If I did, maybe I’d be writing these awesome books that get a lot of attention. That’s usually the luck of the draw, anyway. No, I write stories that make me happy, that I, myself, love to read. What writer wouldn’t love to be the next Nora, King, or Koontz? And many bad news out there for authors about publishers closing down doors or sales being too low to sustain their business. So my tip for the day is to write what you love. If the money doesn’t follow, you’ll still feel fulfilled.
That’s my opinion, anyway. I hope it helps!
by Angela Smith | Feb 23, 2016 | Books, Guests
Today’s guest post is by Lynn Crandall. Lynn’s book, Always and Forever Love is part of the collection of stories in the Noir Nights bundle. Welcome, Lynn!
Lynn:
I love the element of suspense in books. As a reader, I like to bite my nails, follow twists, see the red herring, and discover after all the threat of danger or capture by a villain, the hero or heroine solve the problem. In my case as a writer, not only do my characters face triumph over life-threatening situations and defeat the villain, he or she finds true love.
Give me a Magnum PI, Sheriff Longmire, or Elena Michaels story and I’ll happily get caught up in the drama and suspense. But my interest in writing suspense actually has its roots in books such as The Secret if the Old Clock and The Whispering Statue, stories that followed investigations led by intrepid girl detective, Nancy Drew. There were so many Nancy Drew books, I could finish one and go right on with the next one. In fact, my mom gave me an entire collection of those books. Even though some were written in the late 1950s, I related to Nancy, a young girl with curiosity and keen instincts for puzzling out mysterious situations.
With this background from my childhood, when I started writing fiction it was natural for me to write romantic suspense. In Always and Forever Love, I wanted to team two sisters with completely different personalities to work on uncovering truth and in the process face personal issues. Lacey Aegar, the heroine in the story, her client, Jackson Carter, must work with her archenemy, and she must work with him to uncover the truth that will save his business and free her from the unbearable loss of her husband, who has shown up in her life as an embodied spirit.
I don’t expect to discover a real-life plot to release a dangerous drug into the world. But let’s be honest, life is suspenseful. When we’re young, we don’t know what we’ll do for a living or where we’ll end up living. We each have personal challenges to discover and learn to manage. And if we want true love, we have to figure out what kind of person that would be, then we have to search for our love. It’s all a mystery.
How has your life been suspenseful?
Blurb: The presence of a ghost in her life doesn’t alarm Lacy Aegar, in fact, it makes her happy. Two and a half years ago when her dead husband Nicholas reappeared in her life as a full-bodied spirit, she questioned her sanity. But with Nicholas’ explanation that there are things about life that are not as she’s always believed, she settled into a pleasant routine of working with her sister at their private investigation business and enjoying home life with her now 10-year-old son – with Nicholas never very far away.
Lacey’s complacency and sense of stability is sent topsy-turvy when she runs into Jackson Carter, the son of powerful and influential business tycoon, William Carter. Typical of the Carter reputation, Jackson’s slick new private investigating business is siphoning off clients from the Aegar sisters’ business, creating financial difficulty. It’s a recurring nightmare for Lacey, who has already seen damage done by the Carter family, and when she encounters Jackson, she wants nothing to do with him.
But things are not what they seem when it comes to Jackson Carter, either. Unbeknownst to Lacey and her sister, Jackson is fighting a battle to preserve his business, too, and his integrity. For him, it’s a fight for his soul, and he enlists Lacey’s help because of her unique investigative skills and open heart. When she uncovers a mole in his business, she also discovers that one of his clients’ drug trials has been given the green light to go to the next phase based on falsified data. As they work together to save both their businesses, Jackson and Lacey not only face death, they must come to grips with their feelings about love and life.
http://lynn-crandall.com/2016/02/21/life-is-suspenseful/
http://amzn.com/B01BN2BO9Y
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/noir-nights-lynn-crandall/1123425862?ean=9781440597398
https://www.facebook.com/LynnCrandallAuthor/?ref=hl
https://twitter.com/lcrandall246
https://itunes.apple.com/ca/book/noir-nights/id1083667009?l=fr&mt=11
