Monday, June 9, 2014
Love is an ideal dream for most, and an unattainable illusion for many. We all want it—need it. Depending on who you ask it’s either the most sought after thing in our lives, or the most feared. Either way, love is a huge component of what brings meaning to our lives. So what happens if you’re never fortunate enough to have it? What happens if you walk through life from the cradle to adulthood without ever truly having known love?
My book, My Beginning, was born out of several questions. The first, can you truly love someone that you’ve never met? Although the main characters know of each other through mutual and familial connections, they have not had contact with one another. How then can love have lived in their hearts? Can mutual love of a treasured friend and family member be enough of a tie for two complete strangers to bond and fall in everlasting love?
For many of us, we scour our workplaces or clubs, or friends of friends, or various social connections to deepen our dating pool. Would you ever consider that it could flourish from a helping hand extending beyond the grave?
Well, that’s what happens in My Beginning. Death is not the end of love, it’s the Genesis of it.
Take a moment to read this excerpt:
“Angela Johnson was a special woman. She had the ability to see what a person’s need was, and would do her best to meet that need even if it meant inconveniencing herself. She was kind, gentle, and a great listener. She had the ability to just listen to you, without passing judgment, without inflicting unwanted advice, she just listened and let you vent if that was what you needed. I know there was many a time when I would just talk to Sister Johnson, because I felt there was no one else that could listen objectively. There were times when I felt I couldn’t talk with my family, or even my husband for that matter, but Sister Johnson was always there to do nothing more than listen to me talk.
“I found it so amazing that over the many years that our families were intertwined, that as close as Drew has been to my family over the years, and as close as I have been to Sister Johnson, this is the first time that either of us has laid eyes on one another. But even though Drew and I have never been formerly introduced, Drew, I have to tell you that I feel as if I’ve known you for years. Many of the conversations I had with your mother were spent with her expressing her pride in her beautiful son.”
Genesis paused for a moment watching Drew. He slowly raised his head, and looked up at her. For the first time in the ten years since Genesis had first heard her brothers mention Drew’s name, she saw his face. His smooth skin the color of buttered toffee was covered by a thin shadow of dark brown hair. Genesis wondered if Drew usually wore a beard, but when she looked closely at him she realized the unruly tight curls that were beginning to creep up on his head probably meant he needed both a haircut and a shave. The raven circles that were his eyes were filled with unshed tears. The redness of his eyes told the story of his weariness and his pain. The droop between his shoulder blades voiced the heavy burden Drew was carrying.
Loss usually had that effect on people; it had a way of beating a person down until they were weak with a broken spirit.
Genesis understood loss all too well, more than she ever wanted to admit. Still, she realized this moment wasn’t about her grief, but the grief of Angela Johnson’s son. She took in a slow breath and continued to speak.
“Drew, if there’s one thing your mother always wanted you to know, it was how much she loved you, and how proud she was of the man you are. She worried for years that she would never be able to teach you how to be a proper man, because your father died when you were so young. But in the end, you surpassed all of her expectations, and when she died, she died knowing that she had done her job and been a good mother to you.
“Your mother called me a few weeks ago and told me she needed me to come to New York. I didn’t ask any questions, I got myself together and found my way to her doorstep. She told me she wasn’t long for this life, and she wanted to make sure she asked a personal favor of me while she still could. She said, ‘My boy, Drew will hurt when I’m gone. He doesn’t have any other family other than the Lawrences. Please,’ she said to me. ‘Please, sing His Eye is on the Sparrow at my homegoing. I’ve always loved hearing you sing that song; it’s always given me untold comfort. I want that for my boy, I need for him to feel that.’ So I slowly nodded my head and told her no matter where or when it happened, I would stand for her at that time and sing this song for you, Drew.” Genesis nodded to her mother, and Charlotte began to play the first notes of the somber song.
Something began to happen as Genesis sang; the sadness in the room began to be slowly blanketed by a gentle relief. People began to stand and clap, and dance in the aisles. The congregation was cheering her on, but to Genesis, the only person she saw, or even cared to see at that moment was Drew. As she continued to sing her song, she stepped out of the pulpit, and walked to where Drew was sitting. She placed a hand on his sagging shoulder trying her best to comfort him through the words of her offered song.
As she sang, tears fell from her eyes and onto his shoulder. Drew stood for the first time during the ceremony, he clapped, he released the tears he had been holding back, and he allowed the celebration of his mother’s spirit and life to fill him.
As Genesis sang, she watched Drew raise his hands and just release the pain, the hurt, the sorrow he’d been bearing in the moment. When the last notes of the song passed through her lips, she opened her eyes, and they immediately locked with Drew’s. No words were shared between them; she stepped into his awaiting embrace and the two just held each other until there were no more tears to cry.
Her sense memory of what it felt like to be wrapped in Drew’s arms brought the electric static she’d felt traveling across her skin back to her remembrance. She’d needed to hang on to him, for as long as she could. Fortunately, the cover of grief had made it appropriate for her to melt into the strange man’s arms in the middle of her father’s church for the entire congregation to see.
The unexpected rattle of turbulence snatched her from her reverie. The shaking cabin seemed to shake her mind clear of the vivid images flashing before her eyes. That day of Angela Johnson’s funeral, Drew and Genesis had shared something profoundly intense. Now a year later, her devotion to her brother, her fondness of Drew’s late mother, and the intense momentary experience shared between herself and Drew had her traveling three thousand miles to help a man she barely knew.
BLURBGenesis Lawrence left her home and family in Brooklyn, New York ten years ago and never looked back. When you've spent your entire life protecting yourself from the ones that are supposed to love you, running to the other side of the country seems like the best idea ever. Emotionally bankrupt, she begins rebuilding her life after failed familial connections and a broken marriage leave her too raw to ever believe happiness exists for her. Work as a Physical Therapist in her rehab clinic is all she knows and all she wants. Drew Marrack has spent the last year of his life trying to end the soul-searing pain of losing his mother by any means necessary, even if that means ending him—literally. After a tragic accident and a resulting disability that devastates the tattered remnants of his world, only one name can give him a brand-new start: Genesis. Pain, heartache, secrets, and tragedy from the past bring them together, and then fight to tear them apart. Is new love strong enough to give them the fresh beginning they both need, or is this simply the beginning of their end?
AUTHOR BIOA native of Brooklyn, New York, LaQuette spends her time catering to her three distinct personalities: Wife, Mother, and Healthcare Provider. Writing: her escape from the everyday, has always been a friend and comforter. She loves writing and devouring romance novels. Although she possesses a Masters degree in English Lit, she'd forego Shakespeare any day to read something hot, lusty, and romantic.
Tuesday, June 3, 2014
The Yellow Jackets are a group of young men in their early twenties who have taken a vow of sexual purity. But making a vow and keeping a vow is two different things. Each of them struggle in one way or the other to remain sexually unscathed. Bryant, one of the Jackets, has moved off campus from the all-boys school and finds himself neighbors to a very tantalizing beauty. Only this girl is much more than she seems, and unbeknownst to Bryant, she makes it her mission in life to take his virginity. Bryant and his roommates, in the meantime, are slowly discovering that all of their fellow Yellow Jackets have secrets. Not to mention that there’s a spy in their midst—one who is doing everything he possibly can to expose the fact that the Yellow Jackets are not as ‘pure’ as they all seem.
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Monday, June 2, 2014
Author: Storm Chase Genre: Romance Erotica
Hosted by: Lady Amber's Tours
Star is a top escort with a lucrative sideline in Bondage and Discipline. However, a wrong move lands her in Siberia as the unwilling leading lady in a series of extreme S&M films. Refusing to give in to fear, Star fights back, eventually driving her captors to present her as a gift to Alexei, a prison officer who is feared throughout the state. Star quickly discovers Alexei has a penchant for kinky sex, and a tough exterior but a kind heart – and a seemingly unending supply of chocolates. She falls in love, unaware that Alexei is hiding a secret even darker than her own past. Chocolate is a fun read with a feisty heroine and a hero with a soft center.
Storm Chase was born September 2012. Her alter ego is Ellen Whyte, a syndicated author who has published roughly 3000 articles and 10 print books. The alter ego is the steady type; Storm is the tearaway who's dedicated to making it work with epublishing.
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/291208 http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00FLZAW7A http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00FLZAW7A
An excerpt from Chocolate: An Erotic Romance in Siberia by Storm Chase
Star sat down at the table and tucked in. As the egg yolks mixed with the bacon and creamy sauce, she moaned slightly.
“Oh my God, this is better than sex!”
Alexei was looking somewhat startled. “Glad you like it.”
Star nodded. “Mate, this is even better than chocolate!”
He smiled and went back to his iPad.
He was a strange man, Star thought. She’d been frightened of him at first, and so had Ivan and Sorge, which proved something was up. Yet though he was cool and distant most of the time, he was generous too. The food was brilliant, he constantly filled up the bedroom drawer with soaps and creams, and bed last night had turned out fantastic; if you didn’t count that sneaky thing with the collar.
When he smiled, he was quite good-looking. She liked the way his eyes lengthened, and the way his smile lit up his face. Pity he didn’t smile a lot. He didn’t exactly look bad tempered. It was more like he was analysing everything. As if he was standing a little bit apart from the world around him.
Star wondered if he was on drugs but dismissed it. He wasn’t one of those buff “my body is my temple” types but he was lean and lightly muscled.
A gym nut maybe but more likely a runner, Star considered.
She looked about her. The house was comfortable and there were no pipes, bongs or even ashtrays. Everything was clean, tidy and organised. Efficient, that was the word. No, he wasn’t the type to mess about with any sort of happy dust.
If this deal were going to work, she would have to figure him out. But first she had to get that collar off.
“Finished?” Alexei had put down the iPad.
“It was the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth. Ever.”
He gave her a slight smile. “Good. You can do the dishes; I’m off for a run.” He looked out the window. “It’s too cold and wet for you to come along.”
So she was allowed outside? That sounded all right, Star thought.
“If you do go out, just be careful not to go too far into the woods.”
“Because of the wicked wolf?”
“Bears. They come to steal rubbish.”
Star stared at him. “Bears? Where is this place?”
“Divnogorsk in Siberia.”
“Blimey!” Star was taken aback. “It’s not snowing.”
“It will in a few weeks.”
“So I’m winter entertainment?”
“Got it in one.” Alexei pushed the iPad towards her. “Here. You’ll want to catch up with things. Send some email maybe. If you like comics, I’ve got Batman, Batgirl, Superman, all the classics. In the original English.” He smiled. “But do the dishes first, ok?”
Star stared at him. “You’re the weirdest fucking Dom I’ve ever come across,” she burst out.
He just looked at her. “What makes you think I’m a Dom?”
Star touched the collar. “What’s this then?”
“I like it,” he said easily.
“It’s decoration? I’m not a fucking Christmas tree, am I?” He wasn’t looking mad so Star thought they’d better have it out. “ And I had a look in your drawers, mate. Whips, chains and all sorts of fun toys. If you’re not a Dom, what are you?”
He enjoyed the way her accent varied from her native London tones to a put-on refined twang but he didn’t quite get everything she said. Still, it didn’t matter. This was the Star he’d seen a glimpse of in Ivan’s film. Fearless, forthright, vulgar and fun.
He wasn’t going to tell her about the GPS chip in the collar. Or that it was the only way he could think of to let her run around without him worrying about her getting lost or trying to run away and landing in serious trouble.
Also, there was always the remote possibility that someone might come looking for him one day. If that happened, and if they decided to take Star, the collar would give him an edge. Best to let her think it was part of the job.
“You shouldn’t label people, Star,” he said lightly. “It’s not PC, you know.”
Leaving her open-mouthed, Alexei went off for his run.
Star sat and thought for a while. She opened the front door, just to see what would happen. There were no alarm bells but a blast of icy rain made her shut it hastily again. Then she shrugged and did the dishes.
Sunday, June 1, 2014
Title: The Crimson Series Box Set
Author: Amos Caddidy
Genre: Dark Urban Fantasy
Hosted by: Lady Amber's Tours
For a limited time only, all three books in the Crimson Series are collected together in this box set.
A Dark Urban Fantasy saga, filled with supernatural intrigue. There are twists, turns and characters that will make your legs go weak...
Amos Cassidy - a team of two. Amos is a 30 year old Diva and Cassidy a 37 year old mum of three. Aside from a passion for writing and a love of reading they also share an addiction to coffee, love anything Joss Whedon and are constantly playing tug of war over Jensen Ackles.
They have been writing together for five years, having written three books in 'The Crimson Series', and their latest novel - the first book in a brand new series - 'The Rain: Rebirth', which is out now.
Buy Links (for the box set):
Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/Crimson-Series-Box-Amos-Cassidy-ebook/dp/B00KAYZRF4/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&qid=1400754639&sr=8-4&keywords=amos+cassidy
Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Crimson-Series-Box-Amos-Cassidy-ebook/dp/B00KAYZRF4/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1400754684&sr=1-1&keywords=crimson+series+box+set
Website: http://amoscassidy.com/ Crimson Series Blog: http://crimsonseries.wordpress.com/ Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Amos-Cassidy-World/172592816124684 Twitter: https://twitter.com/amoscassidy Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5762034.Amos_Cassidy Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/amoscassidy/
EXCERPT (from Crimson Midnight):
1. GOODBYE FOR NOW
Rose stood in the bedroom doorway, shoulder propped against the doorframe, thumbs tucked into the pockets of her low-rise Levis. She cocked her head, watching Greg’s backside moving back and forth like an overactive piston.
Had it always been that hairy?
She cleared her throat. “I guess you’re busy,” she said, “maybe I should pop back later.”
The piston halted and Greg practically threw himself off his bed partner as if she were an unwanted hot potato. “Fuck! Rose! Fuck!”
“Yeah, I can see that,” Rose said.
“What are you…I mean, when did you-”
“Get here?” she glanced casually at her wristwatch. “About five minutes ago.”
She noticed him surreptitiously pull the bedspread up to cover his crotch. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
“I thought I’d surprise you.” She pushed herself off the doorframe sauntering into the room. “I guess I succeeded.”
A petite five foot four, with the elfin doe-eyed features of a Manga sketch topped with long golden hair, Rose didn’t look like a threat. In fact, she was pretty certain that she would have been cast as the lead in any production of ‘Legally Blonde’ on looks alone, but the tussled brunette, frozen on the bed, saw something in Rose’s sapphire gaze that galvanised her into action. She shot off the bed making a grab for a pair of lacy red underwear on the floor.
“Sit!” Rose said.
The brunette froze, her fingers mere inches from the lacy garment that would cover her Brazilian-waxed bits. Yeah, Rose wished she’d missed that bit.
Rose smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Please don’t leave on my account. This won’t take more than a minute.” She strode casually to the bedside cabinet on the brunette’s side of the bed, and felt her shrink away. Ignoring her she began to rummage inside.
Greg pulled on his boxers. “What are you doing?”
“Getting my stuff.” She pulled out a couple of paperbacks, her overnight cosmetics bag and her hardback copy of ‘The Kama Sutra’. It felt tacky and sticky. Rose cracked it open and frowned. “You got spunk stains on my book.” She threw the book onto the bed wiping her hands on her jeans. She shoved the rest of her stuff into her backpack, which lay on the floor by the bedside table. Swinging the pack onto her shoulder she headed for the door. She felt Greg behind her, his breath hot on the nape of her neck.
“What, so that’s it? You’re just gonna leave?” He made a grab for her shoulder and she shrugged him off.
“Threesomes are really not my thing,” she said and carried on down the hallway. She needed to get out of here quick before…
“This is all your fault you know!”
She paused, hand on the banister. Now this she had to hear. She turned to face him.
He had his arms crossed across his broad chest, tanned and speckled with dark hair. She had loved lying on that chest. Her eyes travelled up to settle on his face. He wore his favourite expression– smug. “Enlighten me.”
He shrugged, “If you’d put out more often this would never have happened. A man has needs you know, and you’re always busy-”
And then he was on the floor clutching his nose. Rose blinked staring at her fist, feeling the anger, which had erupted so suddenly, dissipate. The roaring in her ears subsided and she heard Greg whimper.
“Wha…Wha ya do tha fa?”
Some questions don’t deserve a response.
Rose turned on her heel and walked away