Edward, Lisa: Songbird



Every relationship changes you, some for the better, others can shatter your confidence and almost destroy you.

For the musically talented, twenty-four year old Tara O’Connell, her relationship with Stephen almost broke her, until Tara found the strength to leave.

Now she is on the road to discovering that it is never too late to pursue your dreams and follow your heart.

As Tara’s self-belief grows, she meets two men she is instantly drawn to who will change her life forever.

Corporal Riley Hammond is a soldier in the Australian Military Special Forces. With his smiling sapphire blue eyes, Tara falls for him instantly. He is thoughtful and caring, and gives her the support and love she needs.

While Cole Michaels is the overconfident singer in a popular local band. His charisma, emerald green eyes, tattoos and piercing, have girls falling at his feet. But while Cole pushes Tara’s buttons, he also pushes her to reach for the stars.

Both men couldn’t be more polar opposites, but both offer Tara different qualities that she needs to fulfil her destiny.

As Tara continues her journey, she will discover fate can offer you more than one path. Her fate is in her own hands, and the choices she makes, will shape her life forever.

songbird sleeve

About this author:

AuthorWhile Lisa Edward has called Melbourne Australia home for her entire life, she has lived and worked in England, and travelled through most parts of Europe and the United States.

She loves nothing more than spending time with her husband and beautiful daughter, or curling up into the early hours of the morning with a great novel.

Her deep appreciation for literature was nurtured from a young age, being taught to respect books and get lost in their stories. She enjoys reading honest and realistic novels that are relatable, thought provoking and leave a lasting impression.

She can’t write without music playing, using the emotions from different songs to invoke that of her characters.

Lisa takes inspiration from her own life experiences, the pe…moreWhile Lisa Edward has called Melbourne Australia home for her entire life, she has lived and worked in England, and travelled through most parts of Europe and the United States.

She loves nothing more than spending time with her husband and beautiful daughter, or curling up into the early hours of the morning with a great novel.

 Her deep appreciation for literature was nurtured from a young age, being taught to respect books and get lost in their stories. She enjoys reading honest and realistic novels that are relatable, thought provoking and leave a lasting impression.

She can’t write without music playing, using the emotions from different songs to invoke that of her characters.

Lisa takes inspiration from her own life experiences, the people around her and those she has met in her travels.

Author links:

Facebook / Goodreads


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Vimeo Book Trailer:



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Riley’s POV – When Riley met Tara

Leaning back on the couch, I reached around behind the extremely loud and annoying girl beside me, and tapped my best mate Chook on the shoulder.

He ignored me and I knew why.

I tapped again a bit harder, there was still no response, so I slapped him up the back of the head. That made him turn around. He gave me the biggest grin, reading my WTF expression for what it was.

When he’d told me I could crash at his girlfriend Kelli’s place for a couple of days while we were in Melbourne, I had no idea that would mean also having to entertain this completely over the top friend of hers.

Seriously, he had to be kidding!

Chook knew I wasn’t interested in forming any sort of relationship with a girl, and I wasn’t into casual either. But even if I was, this was not the girl to be doing it with. She kept practically trying to climb onto my lap, instead of sitting her ass down beside me. In response, I was edging further and further over to the arm of the couch, but I was quickly running out of room.

Looking back over at Chook and Kelli, I smiled to myself. Now if I had a relationship like that it would be different, but the love of your life doesn’t just walk through the door, and I wasn’t in the type of career where I could foster a long term relationship. Being in the military and being away from home a lot, had taught me that it was all too hard, and in the end I’d decided that I was better off focusing on my career and forgetting about finding the one.

Chook must have been doing another impersonation because the girls were laughing, but I wasn’t paying attention. I really didn’t want to be here.

I heard a knock on the door that the others didn’t hear.

“Hey Kell, I think there’s someone at the door,” I told her over the din.

She grinned at me. “That’ll be Tara.”

As she stood, Tara knocked again.

“I’m coming,” Kelli called.

I rolled my eyes at Chook. If Tara was anything like this Jacqui girl sitting beside me, I was checking into a hotel.

But Chook just gave me a wink as he stood.

“Hey Fox, great to see you again.” He strode over to her and lifted her into a bear hug off the floor.

She squealed and laughed. “Great to see you too ya big lug, now put me down, I can’t breathe!”

Her voice was like music to my ears. Even though she was struggling to get free of Chook and laughing, I could tell she was refined and softly spoken.

Chook stood there with his arm around her shoulder while she glanced at Jacqui. She attempted to hide an eye roll at Jacqui’s presence, before looking over at Kelli.

I smiled to myself. If she wasn’t a fan of Jacqui’s then I liked this girl already.

Taking a moment while she was looking away, I cast my eye over the length of her body, and what a body it was. She had the longest, perfectly shaped legs I’d ever seen, which were highlighted by the fact she was wearing quite possibly the shortest shorts ever made. Somehow though, she didn’t look slutty, she just looked fucking hot!

I stepped around the couch and came closer to her, almost as if she was reeling me in. She turned back around to face me, her long, wavy hair cascading around her shoulders, and our eyes locked.

And I was hooked.

I felt like someone had just kicked me in the guts. She was breathtaking.

Keep it together I told myself, she’s just a girl. But I couldn’t speak, all I wanted to do was kiss those partially open, plump, moist lips.

Chook slapped me on the shoulder. “Have you forgotten your name mate? Fox, this is my army buddy Irish, Irish this delectable young lady who has you speechless is Fox.”

Chuckling, while secretly plotting my revenge on Chook, I looked over at him. “Thanks mate, good to see I can always count on you not to embarrass me or anything.”

I had to get this back on track, I had to get to know this girl.

Smiling, I held out my hand to her. “My name’s actually Riley, it’s a pleasure to meet you….Fox.”

I could feel my stomach rolling nervously as I said Fox, which was obviously a nickname Chook had given her. I took in every detail of her face, from her wise pale blue eyes, high cheek bones and those seductive lips.

She was perfect.

She took my hand and it felt like coming home. I didn’t want to let go, so like some desperate weirdo, instead of shaking it, I held it between mine.

“It’s Tara, and it’s a pleasure to meet you too,” she replied breathlessly.

I smiled at her a little relieved. So it wasn’t just me who could feel this connection, by the way she replied she was feeling it too.

The night was finally looking promising.

I started to lead her over to the couch still holding her hand, and offered her a drink, but she said she was only here to drop off some dresses.

“That’s a shame, do you have time for just one?” I asked hopefully.

She smiled and turned to Kelli. “Did you want to try them now or can I just leave them?”

I looked over at Kelli, willing her to say she’d try them later but she didn’t. She grabbed Tara’s hand and practically dragged her into the bedroom, closing the door behind them.

Jacqui was nearly laying on me again but I tried to ignore her. I could hear voices coming from the bedroom and strained desperately to hear what the girls were saying.

“Oh.My.GOD! Who is that guy? He’s GORGEOUS!” I heard through the thin wall.

Beaming, I looked over at Chook who was obviously also eavesdropping on the conversation in the other room.

We sat there still as statues, occasionally looking at each other and commenting on the girls’ conversation.

“She thinks you’re yummy,” Chook teased.

I tried to contain my smile, I thought she was pretty delicious too.

“So you think I’m a great guy?” I teased back at Chook.

I could hear Tara saying it would be hard for her to do long distance, but there was no reason why we couldn’t hang out and have some fun. I agreed with her, long distance was hard and in my experience, almost impossible.

Chook gave me a slap on the shoulder. “Do ya wanna have some fun with her?” he asked, twitching his eyebrows at me.

For some reason I felt overly protective of this girl I’d only just met, and frowned disapprovingly at Chook.

But of course I wanted to have some fun, I couldn’t stop thinking about those long legs and how they would feel wrapped around my hips, or how it would feel to kiss those amazing lips.

I felt a twitch in my pants and told myself to stop thinking about it. There was plenty of time later tonight once I’d gone to bed to think about her.

Besides, I needed to hear what she was saying. Chook was still laughing and I couldn’t help joining him, when clear as day she blurted out, “It’s been so long since I’ve had sex!”

I put my hand over my mouth to hide a smirk, strangely relieved by her outburst. It may have been a long time for her, but I bet it had been longer for me. So long in fact that I was nervous to get back out there again.

I was just about to call out that we could hear them, before she said anything else that Chook would use against her later on, when he called out instead.

“How long has it been Fox?”

Oh fuck! What was he doing?

Chook had that glint in his eye and I knew he would push this too far, as always.

“Longer than I care to remember Chook,” she called back.

“Well, if you’re really desperate I know a couple of guys…”

Hey, that wasn’t on. I reached past this chick who I swear to god was trying to give me a lap dance, and punched him as hard as I could in the arm.

“Ouch! Fuck Irish what was that for? I was just messing with her, she gives as good as she gets.”

I heard the girls laughing from the other room and just shrugged at Chook.

“Go in there and apologise to her.”

“Well, well, well,” Chook said, still rubbing his arm where I’d punched it, “looks like someone wants to unlock his chastity belt.”

“Fuck off dickhead.”

So maybe I was interested in this girl, and maybe she was the first girl I’d been even remotely interested in since Rebecca, but I didn’t need him jeopardising it before I’d had a chance.

Chook stood and headed to the bedroom.

“Hey!” I called to get his attention. “Find out if she’s free on Saturday night, I want to take her to the ball.”

Bruce, Alison: The Siren

The Siren Banner


Title: The Siren (DC Gary Goodhew Mystery #2)

Author: Alison Bruce

Genre: Fiction/Mystery/Crime

Publication Date: November 19, 2013

Publisher: Witness Impulse, an imprint of HarperCollins

Event organized by: Literati Author Services, Inc.


Cover ~ The siren


Sometimes the past just won’t stay buried.

DC Gary Goodhew is on a pub crawl when he smells smoke. He rushes to the scene and finds a raging house fire, too far gone to stop. The blaze leaves two corpses, but a young boy—who was also inside—is now missing.

As the investigation deepens, it becomes clear that the boy’s mother, Kimberley, knows much more than she is letting on. With the clock ticking on a child’s life, Goodhew begins to sift through the ruins of Kimberley’s past—and uncovers an unsettling picture of deceit, murder, and accelerating danger. Fans of Deborah Crombie and Elizabeth George will relish this gripping page-turner.

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Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iTunes

About the Author

Alison Bruce is the author of four novels featuring Gary Goodhew, all set in the gothic city of Cambridge.

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Tour-Wide Giveaway

  • 2 winners will received a FREE Download of The Siren ~ winners must have access to Bluefire Reader and have an Adobe account,


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An excerpt from THE SIREN by Alison Bruce
Witness Impulse, William Morrow


It was the red of the match heads that caught her eye.

Staring into the kitchen drawer, Kimberly Guyver  had no doubt that the matchbook had been there since the day she moved in, and she didn’t see how she could have overlooked it.

Its cover was bent back, so she picked it up and folded it shut. Its once familiar design consisted of nothing more than two words printed in gold on black, in a font that she happened to  know  was called Harquil.

It said: Rita Club.

She folded both hands around the matchbook, cupping it out of sight. She could feel the high-gloss card smooth against her palms. It reminded her how long it had been since her hands had been that silky, her nails as polished. It reminded her of Calvin Klein perfume. Of impractical shoes. Of sweat and vodka shots. And the pounding bass that had drowned out any attempt to reflect on the mess she was currently in.

Maybe the matchbook hadn’t been hiding,  because  maybe  she hadn’t been ready to notice it until now.

She leant an elbow on the draining board, then plucked a match from one end of the row. It lit at the second attempt.  She held it to the corner nearest the ‘R’ for ‘Rita’. The card curled before succumb- ing to a lazy green flame. She wondered if it was toxic, and realized the irony if it was. It burnt slowly until the flame reached the match heads, which then ignited with a sharp bright burst.

She dropped the remnants of the matchbook into  the  sink,  and kept watching it, determined to witness the moment when it finally burnt itself to nothing. It was down to merely ash and a thin plume of smoke when the voice from the doorway startled her.


She took a moment to wipe her face and hands – long enough for him to speak to her again. This time his voice was slightly more insist- ent. ‘Mummy.’ He looked at her with a gaze that implied he knew far more than he was capable of knowing at two and a half, and she immediately felt guilty.

‘Riley,’ she answered, using the same urgent intonation. She held out her hand. ‘Come and watch Thomas while I take a shower.’

She paused by the window, noting the afternoon sun was now low over Cambridge’s Mill  Road Cemetery, its  glow  picking out  the wording on the south- and west-facing headstones, casting the others in deep shadow. It was hot for June, and any areas where the ankle-high grass grew without shade had  already taken on  the appearance  of a hay meadow.

The burial ground was shared between thirteen parishes. She knew this because she knew the cemetery better than anywhere else, better than any other part of town, better than any of the many places she had briefly called home, even the one that had lasted for six years, or this current one where she’d lived for three. She knew the curve of each footpath, and she had favourite headstones. Plenty marked with ‘wife of the above’, but none, she noticed, marked  ‘husband of the below’. Lots,  too,  who ‘fell asleep’. And  if marriage  carried kudos,  so did age: in some cases a mark of achievement and  in others  a measure of loss.

She loved some stones for their ornate craftsmanship, others for their humble simplicity. She taught herself to draw by copying their geometry and scripts and fallen angels. The school claimed she had a natural  aptitude for art but she knew it was the cemetery that taught her balance and perspective, light and shade and the  importance  of solitude.

In isolated moments, when her feelings of abandonment   became all but overwhelming, she’d return to certain memorials that had stayed in her awareness after her previous visits. Like that  of Alicia Anne Campion, one of the many who had fallen asleep. She’d gone in 1876

at the age of 51, and had been given a low sandstone grave topped with white marble, shaped like a roof  with a gable at each end and one off-centre. The elaborate carving was still unweathered.  Kimberly knew how to find it at night-time and had often sat there in the dark, with her back against this grave and the pattern  close to her cheek, her fingers tracing the crisp lines that the stonemason  had chiselled.

Mill Road Cemetery was also the place she’d hidden when, at four- teen, she’d tried her first cigarette, and where, at fifteen, she’d lost her virginity to a boy called Mitch. She never found out whether  Mitch was part of his first name or his last, or no part of his real name at all. He’d smoked a joint afterwards,  and she tried it for the first and only time. He then told her to fuck off. The smoke made her feel queasy and giddy, so she stumbled  and  caught her knuckle on the sharp edge of a broken stone urn, and went home with blood smears on her hands and a new anger ignited in her heart.

But no bad choice was going to come between her and the way she felt for that place, and she later exorcized the memory of it with a succession of equally forgettable boys, until nothing but Mitch’s name and a vague recollection of smoking pot stayed in her head.

People walked through   all the time, taking shortcuts,  taking lunch. People actually tending graves were few, and she guessed that  the number of people who knew the place as well as she did was even less. Most visitors didn’t know about the thirteen parishes; even fewer knew that the curved paths and apparently  shambolic layout  of trees and graves formed a perfect guitar shape. She’d sketched a plan of it one day, then in disbelief double-checked a map and, sure enough, found this huge guitar hidden in the centre of the city.

The guitar’s  neck belonged to  the  parish of St Andrew the  Less and,  although level with the rest of the cemetery, it stood a storey higher than the houses backing on to its west side. They were Victorian terraces, originally two-up, two-down workers’ houses, but almost all of them had since been extended.

One of these was Kimberly’s. It had a single-storey extension that stretched to within a few feet of the cemetery’s perimeter wall. When she first moved in, she’d seen that as providing a good fire escape: an easy climb through her sash window, then across the flat roof to safety. But, almost as soon  as he had  been big enough to stand, she’d realized

Riley’s fascination with the large open space that lay just over their garden wall.

For now, though, Thomas the Tank Engine was enough to hold his interest, so she left him sitting on one of her pillows, hypnotized  by the TV at the foot of her bed. Just this one time, she hoped he would leave her to shower in peace, enjoying the water close to scalding and the jets needling her skin.

She reached for a towel, realizing that she’d stayed in the shower for much longer than she had planned to. She could hear the Fat Con- troller  having a few issues with one of the less useful engines, and knew the DVD had been on for over half an hour.

‘Riley?’ she called. With no response, she guessed he was probably just too engrossed to hear her, and she called him again.

She took another towel and wrapped her wet hair in it, then returned to the bedroom just as the theme song began. Thomas the Tank Engine was chuffing along the track with the credits flying up the screen, but Riley had climbed under the covers and was sleeping too deeply to care. Kimberly curled up beside him, wrapping her arms around  him, and he shifted a little, resettling with his head closer to hers. His hair tickled her cheek. He smelt of baby wipes and jacket potato, and his proximity soothed her more than any amount of showering could have done.

It was a tranquil moment, broken only by the main-menu loop on the DVD, then a few seconds of cheery music that had already been repeated too many times. Kimberly stretched herself towards the remote, aiming to scoop it near enough to reach the mute button. She touched one of the channel buttons instead, and the image that flickered on to the screen seemed as familiar as Thomas the Tank Engine.

She recognized that skyline, the rocky outcrop, the barren  coastline. But she took a second or two to understand this was no DVD,  no fictional footage. It was the news.

A fragment of her life was appearing on the television and, as sure as the carving on Alicia Campion’s grave, its details were now set in stone.

She felt realization burn through  her chest, dropping like a molten leaden weight into the pit of her stomach. She saw the winch, and the wreck of Nick’s car that now hung from its hook. The car that

she’d last seen when that same stretch of the Mediterranean sea had swallowed it.

The reporter’s voice began to penetrate her shock. ‘The vehicle was recovered last week after some divers reported that it appeared to con- tain human remains. It wasn’t until today that the Spanish authorities have been able to confirm the identity  of the occupant.  The victim is named as former Cambridge man Nicholas Lewton, who had been living and working in Cartagena until his disappearance almost three years ago. Police are now appealing for information, and a spokesman has confirmed that this death is being treated as suspicious.’

The phone sat on the bedside table nearest to the window. It rang just as she was reaching for it. She looked out across the cemetery, towards the rear of another row of houses. Because they were built on higher ground, her bedroom directly faced the rear  windows of their ground floors. One of them had  been sandblasted,  leaving its brickwork paler than that of its neighbours. Trees rose in-between, but she could see its upper floor catch the last of the sunshine and glow a fireball orange.

The ground floor of the same house was partly obscured in summer, but Kimberly knew that her caller was standing just inside its patio door.  Probably  squinting  into  the sun,  staring  over at  Kimberly’s house, waiting for her to answer the phone.

Kimberly pressed the ‘answer’ button. ‘I saw it,’ she said. ‘Let me get dressed. I’ll meet you outside.’

Davis, Jane: A Funeral for an Owl

I have a wonderful, personal message to all of you from Author Jane Davis.

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Dear Friends,

It is with great delight on this grey and miserable November  morning (are those hailstones bouncing down the chimney?) that I am  announcing the launch of my new novel, A Funeral for an Owl. Many  of you have already been part of the process with extremely valuable feedback on  early drafts, proof-reading, book cover design and much-needed IT support (thank  you, Jack Naisbett, thank you!) and I will be eternally  grateful.

It would be great if you  could:

  • Share the information below with book-loving  family, friends and colleagues via Facebook, Twitter or other magical  social mediums of your choice.
  • Don’t stop there. Strike up conversations with complete  strangers about A Funeral for an Owl. Tell the lady at the bus-stop about it, and the man in the queue in front of you  at the supermarket.
  • If you belong to a book club – and I know many of you do –  please consider ‘Owl’ when it is your month to choose the next read.
  • Post a review of Amazon or Goodreads.
  • ‘Like’ the reviews on Amazon and Goodreads.
  • Ask your local bookshops if they stock books by Jane  Davis.              
  • Don’t feel obliged to read it  yourself. If you are stuck for Christmas present ideas, books make lovely  gifts. I have hundreds of the blooming things arriving next week and I would be  very happy to write a personal dedication in my truly  appalling hand-writing. Postage costs £3 approx. Be warned: If I  hand-deliver them to you, I will demand tea and biscuits.
  • Do read on. You are just getting to the good bit. And there  are pictures!

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Out now as an e-book and arriving in paperback 27th  November

Everything changes for Jim Stevens the day he finds a pair of  binoculars and picks them up. Kneeling on the back of his sofa, looking out over  the lamplit night from his London council flat, he spots a barn  owl…

Author, Jane Davis, has earned her fast-growing loyal fan-base by tackling a  broad range of subjects through her fiction. From experimental photography to  near-death experience, religious visions to sex addiction, it isn’t her style to  shy away from ‘big’ subjects. Of her latest release, A Funeral for an Owl,  Davis says, ‘The influence missing persons hold over our lives was  something that I had tentatively explored, but I found myself drawn to the  Missing Persons ads in The Metro, the 14 and 15-year-olds who are  simply slipping between the cracks because their stories aren’t sufficiently  high-profile to land them on the front pages. I looked into the facts and the  statistics are simply staggering. An estimated 100,000 children ‘run away’ from  home each year. Shockingly, of those, a quarter are actually forced out of their  homes by parents or carers and two-thirds are not even reported as missing. I  found a particularly poignant quote from Lady Catherine Meye: “We can’t  establish for certain how many children are missing. You’d have more chance of  finding a stray dog.” And so I asked myself, what if some of the rules put  in place to protect children actually deprive the most vulnerable of  confidential counsel from someone they trust? When I was growing up, we had a  wonderful teacher who operated an open-house, providing a safe haven for those  who were struggling, no questions asked. Today, in an environment when any  relationship between teachers and pupils outside the classroom is taboo, she  would be sacked. I think that’s terribly sad.’

Compulsion Reads, who have championed Davis’s previous novels, These  Fragile Things and I Stopped Time, have also given A Funeral for  an Owl their gold seal of approval. Co-owner Leslie Ramey says, ‘The  Compulsion Reads evaluation system is built upon assessing and endorsing those  indie novels that possess the foundational components of a good story, including  well-developed characters, strong pacing, a well-researched world and a powerful  overall voice.’

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Early reviews:

Compulsion Reads: A Funeral for  an Owl is an absolutely beautiful story, written with an intensity that will  suck you into the disparate lives of Jim, Ayisha and Shamayal. Author Jane Davis  lavishes her considerable talents on developing her main protagonists into  vibrant characters, filled with so much depth that you can’t help but  intuitively understand them.

Cleopatra Loves Books: Jane is one of those writers who  makes you really believe the story you are being told; the descriptions of  places meant that I felt I was by the railway tracks, in the high-rise flat or  in the school playground witnessing a fight, a true gift.

To treat yourself to a e-book today, click here.

You can read Jane’s interview for Cleopatra Loves Books in full here.  Alternatively you can connect with Jane using the links below.

Jane Davis, award-winning author of Half-truths and White Lies,  I Stopped Time, These Fragile Things and A Funeral for an Owl.
To purchase,  visit Amazon or Smashwords
To connect:  website: www.jane-davis.co.uk

Grant, Mallory: My Real

Mallory Grant EBook

Book Title: My Real
Author: Mallory Grant
Genre: New Adult
Release Date: December 2013
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

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Shattered, betrayed, and divorced, Bailey James has been burned by the only man she’s ever loved. Bailey wants nothing more than to spend her summer off from teaching alone reading in her oversized pajamas and eating chocolate. Love is nowhere on her radar, until her best friend drags her out to celebrate her new bachelorette status.

Humiliated, destroyed, and broken. Andrew Cooper is in search of something real. He’s tired of living with a fake woman and her demands. However, his ex-wife won’t let go and take the hint that he can no longer love a manipulative, cheating woman. Running into old college crush, Bailey James, has Andrew believing that he’s finally found something real–something worth fighting for.

Andrew needs to convince Bailey that they can be together and love happily ever after and break free from their broken pasts. But will his jealous ex-wife and Bailey’s fear of revealing her secret ruin their chance for becoming each other’s real?

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Author Bio:

Mallory Grant is a wife, mother of two, an avid reader, and educator. She’s from a small town in Pennsylvania and likes to pretend she’s a runner but really only likes to wear yoga pants and only runs when the chocolate starts to hit her thighs.

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Ting, Mary: Crossroads Saga

The Crossroads Saga

Crossroads Saga


crossroads tingCrossroads (Book 1)

Can two worlds collide in dreams?

Crossroads, Between, Beyond, Eternity, Halo City-novella

Protecting her from the fallen was his duty.

Falling in love was never part of his plan.

Loving her was forbidden.

Being with her was all that mattered, even if it meant he would be exiled for all eternity.

Claudia Emerson’s life is about to change when her good friend, who coincidentally shares the same first and last name, dies in a tragic accident after the homecoming dance. Distraught at the loss of her friend, Claudia’s dreams become tumultuous, and through them she mysteriously travels to another world called Crossroads. Unknown to her, Crossroads is like a second heaven, a place between heaven and earth, where the souls of humans in comas or near death experiences may wander. There, she unexpectedly meets Michael, a nephilim–half angel, half human. It turns out that this isn’t her first visit, which is an enigma, for she has no recollection of being there, and is told that no human has crossed over…until Claudia. Now that she’s been there, fallen and demons are after her, suspecting she must be special, and it is up to Michael and the other nephilim to protect her. Her dream becomes a nightmare as more secrets are revealed about who she really is, and the true identities of the people she loves most. The situation becomes even more complicated when she is unable to hinder her feelings for her swoon-worthy guardian angel. Can Michael fight his growing feelings for Claudia and protect her as a guardian angel should, or will he be too blinded by human emotions and the struggles of being who he is?

Crossroads is FREE

Amazon * Barnes & Noble * Smashwords

Download a copy today!!


Praise for Crossroads

“Crossroads contains action, twists and romance that has you flipping through the pages so fast that you’re at the end and ready for more before you know it.” ~Gabby, Nashville Young Adult Fiction Examiner/What’s Beyond Forks

“Watch out Edward Cullen! The angel Michael has officially given you a run for your money! Teens everywhere will add a new fictional boyfriend to their ever growing lists! OMWings! An amazing paranormal angel romance that stays with you long after the last page has turned. I need more!” ~Jennifer Howell with LateBloomerOnline.com

“Crossroads by Mary Ting has it all: danger, romance, suspense, incredible characters and an original plot that is sure to thrill. The action never stops as good and evil battle to the death. This well written and fascinating love story will keep readers entranced.” ~ReadersFavorite.com


Book Trailer


Though Phillip had already told me that I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between an alkin and a fallen, it was confirmed as I watched the battle. They looked just like the alkins as the two sides battled with swords. Watching, I noticed that Michael had one too, but where had it come from?

“No!” Michael shouted, suddenly standing directly in front of me. “You don’t need her. She’s just a human.”

“Get them!” Aden shouted again.

During the entire fight Michael stayed by my side, protecting me. They fought so swiftly that even with my flashlight it was hard to distinguish alkins from the fallen. I focused intently, trying to figure out who was who, but it was no use. They were too fast for human eyes. I pointed the flashlight, hoping to blind or distract them, but that also proved to be pointless. It was only useful for my vision.

In the blink of an eye they were here, there and everywhere. The clanging of swords colliding was painful to hear. As the screeching sounds continued, all I could see were sparks as the swords made contact, as if we were in the middle of a lightning storm. Fearful of any alkin getting hurt, I covered my ears, hoping that it would end soon.

Suddenly, Aden raised his hand toward the stars, and the fallen stopped. The sounds of the swords crashing against each other came to a dead halt. Aden started circling around Michael and me. As he drew closer, I could see that he looked exactly as I remembered him from my dream. The wrinkles on his forehead defined his age, and though I conceived him as evil, his voice scared me more than his appearance. Aden never lifted a finger to fight; instead, he relied on the fallen to carry out his battle strategies.

“Michael, come with me. I’ll give you anything you want.”

“There is nothing I want from you.”

“They’ve turned you against me. I should have killed you when I had the chance.” Aden’s eyes raged with anger.

“They didn’t turn me against you. I did it of my own free will.”

“Move out of my way!” Aden shouted.

“You’ll have to go through me first!”

As Aden continued to circle around us, I could sense movement from the fallen, edging closer to Michael and me. The alkin must have sensed it too as they positioned themselves right behind us and immediately began to attack the fallen.

Michael moved me to the left and then to the right, fighting while shielding me. Though the fallen were fewer in number than before, they were retaliating in full force. In the midst of all the chaos, I lost my grip on the flashlight, and it tumbled off the cliff. Instinctively I reached for it, and in that split second someone or something collided against me, and I plummeted off the cliff.

Gravity was pulling me faster than my body could resist. I’d always heard that at the moment of death, one’s life flashed before their eyes; all the moments that had brought them to that point, big or small. All I could think of was death itself and the one person who had changed my life forever—Michael.


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mary tingAuthor Mary Ting

Bestselling/award-winning author Mary Ting resides in Southern California with her husband and two children. She enjoys oil painting and making jewelry. Writing her first novel, Crossroads Saga, happened by chance. It was a way to grieve the death of her beloved grandmother, and inspired by a dream she once had as a young girl. When she started reading new adult novels, she fell in love with the genre. It was the reason she had to write one-Something Great. Why the pen name, M Clarke? She tours with Magic Johnson Foundation to promote literacy and her children’s chapter book-No Bullies Allowed.


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Open only to those who can legally enter, receive and use an Amazon.com Gift Code or Paypal Cash. Winning Entry will be verified prior to prize being awarded. No purchase necessary. You must be 18 or older to enter or have your parent enter for you. The winner will be chosen by rafflecopter and announced here as well as emailed and will have 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen. This giveaway is in no way associated with Facebook, Twitter, Rafflecopter or any other entity unless otherwise specified. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning. Giveaway was organized by Kathy from I Am A Reader, Not A Writer and sponsored by the author. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW.

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Bliss, Chelle: Untangle Me

Untangle Me

Untangle Me (Love At Last)  by Chelle Bliss is ON SALE for 99¢ now – Sunday

Amazon Link: http://amzn.to/1aWCclH


Kayden is a bad boy that never played by the rules. Sophia has always been the quintessential good girl, living a life filled with disappointment. Everything changes when their lives become intertwined through a chance encounter online.

Hundreds of miles separate them, but the connection that draws them together is too much to be denied. As the layers of their lives peel back, Kayden keeps the dangerous parts of his past hidden to protect the woman who is becoming more important to him than he should allow. What starts as a pursuit of carnal pleasure turns into a complicated love story. His past is a tangled web filled with addiction, an obsessed ex-girlfriend, and problems with the law.

One mistake he thought he had left behind may end up ruining it all.

Publisher’s Note: This book contains explicit sexual situations, graphic language, and material that some readers may find objectionable.

Farmer, Merry: In Your Arms

In Your Arms by Merry Farmer

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About In Your Arms

In Your Arms Merry FarmerLily Singer has never belonged. Taken from her tribe as a child and raised in a white man’s school, she no longer has a place in either world. Teaching has become her life. When that life is threatened by rumors and prejudice after a string of robberies, she must turn for help to the one man who spells disaster for her carefully ordered existence. Will he save her or steal her heart?

Christian Avery, Justice of the Peace, is used to having things his way. Cold Springs is his responsibility, and when its citizens blame the local Indian population for the mysterious robberies, it’s up to him to restore order and maintain calm. The one person who refuses to follow his lead is the beautiful, native-born Lily. Her defiance turns his life upside down.

But when town gossip shifts from robberies to romance after a foolish indiscretion, Lily’s job and reputation are on the line. She must choose between the only life she has ever known and the only place she has ever felt at home, in Christian’s arms.

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About Merry Farmer

Merry FarmerMerry Farmer is an award-winning author of Historical Romance and what she likes to call “Sci-Fi for Women.” She lives in suburban Philadelphia with her two cats and enough story ideas to keep her writing until she’s 132. Her second novel, The Faithful Heart, was a 2102 RONE Award finalist and her unpublished futuristic novelA Man’s World won first place in the Novel: Character category at the 2013 Philadelphia Writer’s Conference. She is out to prove that you can make a living as a self-published author and to help others to do the same.

Find Merry Farmer on her websiteFacebookTwitter, and Amazon Author Page.

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In Your Arms is available on AmazonAmazon UKSmashwordsBarnes & Noble, and iBooks.

Don’t forget to add In Your Arms to your to-read shelf on Goodreads.

Connect with Merry Farmer on her websiteFacebookTwitter, and Amazon Author Page.

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MacKinney, Hawk: Vault of Secrets

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By Hawk MacKinney

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MEDIA KIT Book CoverVault of Secrets is a compelling tale of intrigue, murder, deception and redemption that leads retired Navy SEAL/part-time private investigator Craige Ingram in search of the connection between seemingly random murders and a banking conspiracy.  Working with the local homicide investigator, who just happens to be a former Navy buddy, Craige Ingram’s attempts to protect a lonely widow and solve the case before another person dies are only thwarted by a psychotic killer whose motivation is based on pure pleasure.  The instincts and skills Ingram and his buddy acquired as Navy SEALS are tested to their limits.



Before the forensic team videoed the kill zone, they took painstaking wide-angle photos and close-ups, made a detailed sweep of the area, packaged possible physical evidence and tagged the zip-locks.  The heavy, thick plastic body bag was zipped shut.  The woman’s remains were then hoisted into the van with County Morgue stenciled on the side—slaughtered meat on a gurney.  It was ready for storage and probably a pauper’s grave.

In one desolate corner of the garage, beyond the yellow marked area and oil splotched parking slots, the two bag ladies tried to be inconspicuous, waiting where they’d been told to stay.  Her drab gray-blond hair twisted into a bun, Sallie Mae Drutherferde darted distrustful glances at the clusters of police.  She squinted a sky blue eye, didn’t like cops one iota, and gave a dubious, all-knowing look at Agatha Ruth.  Together, the two were often pushing their rickety grocery cart with its one lopsided wheel.

Sallie Mae asked, “A’gatha, you not gonna tell ‘em anything?” Her eyes were cocked big and round.  Sallie Mae always called her A’gatha ‘cause that’s the way Agatha Ruth Hutchers said it.  Didn’t matter what others said.  A’gatha nervously adjusted her dumpster-discard, hairbare, blond wig twisted askance, which made her look like she was staring sidewise.

A’gatha shook her head, “Ain’t sayin’ nuthin’ ‘bout nuthin’—‘bout no big, show-off, black see-dan automobile that pulled in here last night.  Right off the bat, they’d be askin’ why we was where we didn’t supposed to be.  We end up havin’ to find us another place to skitter in out of the weather.  No sirree.  Ain’t sayin’ nuthin’.”

“Gonna have to find us another place anyhow,” Sallie Mae muttered as she crooked one finger to scratch her curls.  “‘Sides, I didn’t hear no scuffle.”

“Whole lot of ‘em drunk as hoot owls,” A’gatha said.  “Was all set to have a wing-ding party long ‘fore they showed up here.  Poor thing yonder in that amb’lance wadn’t no innocent church mouse.  She was more’n willin’.” She then added with a snap of her head, “Lordy mercy.  Tsk-tsk.  More’n willin’ and a cagey type, too.  The type who makes sure to be paid ‘fore puttin’ a foot in anyone’s big, long car.  Scandalous tight dress showin’ off her wares, and a skimpy blouse didn’t hide nothin’—poochin’ out her chest for any fancy man long as they brung money.  Even if she was a harlot, ain’t no bizness a ours.” Her face softened.  “Ain’t tellin’ nobody nuthin’.  You know how cops be.”

“The likes a her endin’ up dead in some alley ain’t no surprise t’me one bit,” Sallie Mae said.

“Sallie Mae!” A’gatha eyed her.  “You hush up ‘bout us seein’ them in that alley.  Bankers that works in this building won’t bat nary an eyelash payin’ some low life to dump us off the Fifth Street pier.  We end up gator bait stuffed amongst swamp sycamore tree roots.” Truth glimmered from her eyes like a cornered rabbit.  “Them kind got money to buy their scutwork done.”

The police finally got around to them.  “What were you two doing in here that hour of the night?” the beat cop asked.

“Passin’ through,” Sallie Mae said, her head up proud.

“Passing through …” the cop snorted.  “Up here on the upper deck?”

A’gatha scowled, “We got lost.” Her lips were tight as she glowered, “We ain’t done nuthin’ wrong.”

“This is private property,” he said.  “Nobody’s supposed to be in here unless you got business with the bank, and nobody’s supposed to be in here at night.”

“We didn’t bother nuthin’, didn’t see nothin’.”  Sallie Mae wasn’t about to let no cop push A’gatha around.

He knew he was getting nowhere.  He turned to the lieutenant, “We’ve dealt with these two before.  The only arrests they have is when some owner found them sleeping in his garage or in the back of an unlocked delivery van.”  He knew they were tough, weren’t about to crack, but finding them here meant an extra patrol for him and his partner.  There was no point in pushing further, so he closed his notepad and shoved it in his pocket.  “You two can’t loiter here,” he said.  “The bank don’t like it.”

A’gatha bristled, “Ain’t loiterin’.”  She wasn’t going to put up with being called a bum neither.

“Don’t let me catch you two in here again,” he said and walked away.

“Let’s git.”  They scurried away.  A’gatha knew they didn’t amount to anything to any of these cops.  They were nothing more than dust in a world that passed them without ever seeing them.  “Might be a good time to take us a Florida vacation,” A’gatha said.  “Ain’t never comin’ back near this here place.” She could feel the spirits hovering about.  “Not ever.”

“Cops don’t scare me none,” Sallie Mae said.

“Tain’t the cops,” Agatha said, eyeballin’ the shady darkness ‘round abouts them.  “They be a evil smell to this place.  A hoary breath of death abouts.  I can tetch it.  You best listen t’me.  Be like about that other time when I said things wadn’t safe,” she said, directing a sidewise glance at Sallie Mae and sensing the murky gloom behind the midday brightness.  “I’m rollin’ the bones this night.  Death be here.” Her eyes were big with fear.  “Ain’t stayin’ where demons walk the night mist.”

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MEDIA KIT Hawk-DSC3027_jpgWith postgraduate degrees and faculty appointments in several medical universities, Hawk MacKinney has taught graduate courses in both the United States and Jerusalem. In addition to professional articles and texts on chordate neuroembryology, Hawk has authored several works of fiction.

Hawk began writing mysteries for his school newspaper. His works of fiction, historical love stories, science fiction and mystery-thrillers are not genre-centered, but plot-character driven, and reflect his southwest upbringing in Arkansas, Texas and Oklahoma. Moccasin Trace, a historical novel nominated for the prestigious Michael Shaara Award for Excellence in Civil War Fiction and the Writers Notes Book Award, details the family bloodlines of his serial protagonist in the Craige Ingram Mystery Series… murder and mayhem with a touch of romance. Vault of Secrets, the first book in the Ingram series, was followed by Nymrod Resurrection, Blood and Gold, and The Lady of Corpsewood Manor. All have received national attention.  Hawk’s latest release in the Ingram series is due out this fall with another mystery-thriller work out in 2014. The Bleikovat Event, the first volume in The Cairns of Sainctuarie science fiction series, was released in 2012.

“Without question, Hawk is one of the most gifted and imaginative writers I have had the pleasure to represent. His reading fans have something special to look forward to in the Craige Ingram Mystery Series. Intrigue, murder, deception and conspiracy–these are the things that take Hawk’s main character, Navy ex-SEAL/part-time private investigator Craige Ingram, from his South Carolina ancestral home of Moccasin Hollow to the dirty backrooms of the nation’s capital and across Europe and the Middle East.”

Barbara Casey, President

Barbara Casey Literary Agency




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Renae, Cameo: ARV-3

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Title: ARV-3

Author: Cameo Renae

Genre: YA Post-Apocalyptic/Dystopian

Release Date: October 29, 2013

Publisher: CHBB

Cover Design: Regina Wamba at Mae I Design Photograpy

Tour Host: Lady Amber’s Tours



June 6, 2014: The beginning of the end. The Apocalypse.

A nuclear fallout wiped out every living thing on the planet, except for a few thousand of us who took shelter in underground bunkers across the globe. Now, after thirteen long years, we were finally able to return to the topside to begin to rebuild.

We thought we were alone. We were never more wrong.

Before the fallout, scientists had worked on creating an anti-radiation vaccine (ARV). The first two attempts failed, but despite the incomplete tests and results, the government approved and distributed the third serum to the masses in an effort to aid those who had no shelter.

It worked, keeping those who remained on the topside alive, but it also altered and mutated them. This new and infectious threat had completely outnumbered us. Now, we not only had to rebuild our planet. We would have to fight for it.

My name is Abigail Park. I’m seventeen, and this is my story.


 Author Bio:

My family is what keeps my heart beating, and my world a happy place to be.

I love reading great books that whisk me away from reality, even if for a little while. 🙂 Writing is my passion. I love creating new worlds and new characters, and taking wondrous adventures with them.

In My Dreams & Hidden Wings were both recently published through Crushing Hearts and Black Butterfly Publishing. Descent (A Hidden Wings novella) will be released May 15, 2013, and Broken Wings (Book 2 in the Hidden Wings Series) will be released June 1, 2013.

One day I will find my magic wardrobe, and ride away on my magical unicorn… ♥ Until then… I’ll keep writing! 😉

Follow Cameo on:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CameoRenaeFanPage
Blog: http://cameorenae.blogspot.com/
Website: http://cameorenae.com
Twitter: @CameoRenae

Molloy, SJ: Lussuria – The Luminara Series

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Book: Lussuria – The Luminara Series
Author: S.J. Molloy
Genre: Adult Contemporary Romantic Suspense
Release Date: November 26, 2013
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions


Lussuria (Lust)

An emotional erotic heart-wrenching story of lust, love and light.

Alexis Evangeline Robertson is a beautiful insecure woman who is daunted with painful memories from her past. She has rules, and she has boundaries.

She never lets anyone too close.

An internal Mental Filing System allows her to sustain order in her complex life and help her cope.

What she didn’t expect was her past coming back to haunt her, and she must stay strong.

Lucca Caruso has the most mesmerizing crystal azure blue eyes and a heart of gold. When Lexi meets this Italian God, she doesn’t expect to see him again.

But fate intervenes.

While on vacation at a Villa in Val D’Orcia, near the Chianti hills outside of Florence, she is more than surprised to see Lucca arrive at the very same villa. Lexi begins a journey of self-discovery, helplessly folding, melting and crumbling to the temptation of her heart’s desire.

He is a gentle lover and he is a wild lover, he’s the man that we all want and can’t get enough of.

After the desires of lust …

And the sweetness of love …

Lexi will spread her wings towards the light …

This is the story of one woman’s destiny to find her light from her sinister, dark, harrowing past and the one man who can take her there. An intriguing hot, sexy expressive story of learning to accept, trust and believe.

Welcome to the Luminara Series

Meet the Author

SONY DSCSJ Molloy, first time British Author of ‘The Luminara Series’ was born in Edinburgh, Scotland. As a young child, her family moved and raised her in Lanarkshire, Scotland where she currently resides with her husband, two daughters and her energetic, hyperactive loving gun dog who is utterly spoiled.

SJ is a qualified Fitness Instructor and Health & Fitness Motivator of various fitness styles and disciplines. Music and dance aerobics have always been a pleasure and passion for her. SJ will sporadically make up dance style routines at any hour of the day when a move comes to her or piece of music moves or inspires her. Currently not teaching classes she is focusing her time into nurturing her yearning passion for creative writing, exchanging one visualization for another.

As a child, SJ loved to write in journals and make up short stories and has a flare for all things creative. With an overactive imagination at times, SJ adores to make notes, visualize scenes and settings to create characterizations.

While on holiday with her family one summer reading book after book, she had a flash of inspiration and has had various ideas whirling around in her mind ever since. It was not until she pulled back on teaching classes that she found the courage, time and insight into actually bringing these ideas to life.

In February 2013 she decided to bring that imagination to light by beginning her writing journey with ‘Lussuria’ the first installment in ‘The Luminara Series’ available from late October 2013.

Being a self-confessed book junkie, she loves nothing better than to get lost in an emotional and moving book. A true romantic at heart, her guilty pleasure is reading heart-warming, passionate stories and falling in love with her favorite fictional characters.

With five books already mapped out in ‘The Luminara Series’, SJ’s busy creative mind has already planned two more fictitious novels, both stand-alone romance books and very different in their own right.

When she is not writing or reading, spending time with family and friends or exercising and walking her dog, SJ loves all things practical and creative. Dancing, music, cooking, travelling, good food and wine and painting are her favorite past times along with laughter, lots and lots of laughter.


When I saw your eyes filled with dread and fear, my heart nearly stopped, I thought I would lose you, I need you and want nothing more, please trust me Doc, I ….I love you, I love you Dolcezza”.

He claims my mouth with profound longing and as soon as our lips meet the chemistry and energy ignites a burning desire deep in my soul and heart. My body submits to him with his sensitive words.

I’ve folded yet again!

Another tidal wave of water is flooding from my eyes cascading down my cheeks, he has me…

“You love me?” my voice is breaking, my eyes weeping.

“Yes, I love you; I’m very much in love with you. You are mine forever and my something special baby”

My body and mind become weak. I stare into his wide wet azure blue eyes,

“Lucca I…….I don’t know what to say”.

“Then don’t, write it in your journal”.

With these words we melt into each other, passionately kissing in a tight embrace filled with love and traces of uncertain fear.

Lussuria – Book 1 of The Luminara Series

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