Guest release promotion–Second Chance Bride by Joan Reeves

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He was the only man she wanted—and the one man she could never have.

At eighteen, she left all the pain and heartbreak behind and reinvented herself as wealthy, successful Constance Quinn. In her strictly regimented life, there’s no room for love. Now older and wiser, she’s determined to find the part of herself that got lost in her transformation.

When she meets Alex Martinez, something hot and urgent passes between them. Their attraction is mutual. Their desire is palpable, but she knows she’s playing with fire because she has a secret that Alex must never discover.

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EXCERPT

Despite the sultry evening, Constance Quinn felt chilled. This was the house. Every room blazed with lights. The air vibrated with pounding music, accompanied by loud splashes, girlish squeals, and booming laughter. She should leave. Yet, she remained rooted, staring at the house for several more minutes before she turned—and literally bumped into a man. A startled gasp escaped her. She gave a nervous laugh. “Where did you come from?”

He took a step backward, as if knowing she felt threatened, and pointed toward the house she’d been studying. “From across the street.”

His voice captured her attention despite the noise in the background. When he stepped forward, into the light cast from a street lamp, her eyes widened and chill bumps swept over her arms as she realized who he was. His online photo didn’t do justice to his unruly dark hair and warm brown eyes. He didn’t look like anyone’s idea of a History professor. Not with those broad shoulders, lean waist, and carved biceps revealed by the golf shirt he wore. Unexpectedly, a wave of heat flashed through her, chasing away the chill.

“I’m Alejandro, but just about everyone calls me Alex.” He pointed again to the house across the street. “That’s my house. I hope the noise and lights didn’t disturb you.”

His easy smile made her breath catch. She could only shake her head in response. She found herself taking a step toward him. Oh, dear. She curled her hands into fists to keep from reaching out to touch him. Her pulse beat erratically. Suddenly, she felt threatened by…what? His intense masculinity? She took a deep breath and made herself articulate what she was feeling, rather than stuff her feelings into the hole in her soul and pretend they didn’t exist. What was she feeling?

Attraction. Desire.

No! That was crazy. She was the Ice Queen. She didn’t feel desire—especially not for a man she’d just met. She bit back a groan. Why this man?

Even if she wanted him, she could never have him.

BIO

Joan Reeves is a NY Times and USAToday bestselling author who believes it’s never too late to live happily ever after.  Joan lives her HEA with her husband, dividing their time between a book-cluttered home in Houston and a house in the Texas Hill Country where they sit on the porch at night, stare at the star-studded sky, and listen to coyotes howl.

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GIVEAWAY

a writer’s journal to a winner in the U.S. Outside the U.S. the prize will be a copy of one of my ebooks.

Guest Interview with Susan Peters-Davis

Hello Linda, thanks so much for having me as a guest at your place. I’m excited to be here and look forward to answering anyone’s questions, if any of your visitors care to leave a comment.

I’d also like to offer a $10 Amazon GC as a giveaway – to enter please leave a comment telling me what your favorite supernatural/paranormal character is and why. Please also include your email address so that I may contact you if you are the lucky winner of the drawing:) Drawing will happen on Sunday, November 18th at 7:00 PM:0)

What’s the logline that describes your writing?

SPD – A mixed, not stirred, blend of supernatural, crime, suspense, paranormal romance, some with a diverse edge and others with a sublime impactful subject awareness.

Do you start a new story with the plot or characters first?

SPD – I start with my main character sketches (including villain), and then I brainstorm with another author friend, the story plot using a three-act system of incidents/events, laid out as screen writer Sid Fields teaches. At this point, I add the secondary and extra character sketches as they crop up within the story.

If you use music while writing, name your favorite types.

SPD – I listen to African Tapestries, Hennie Bekker, he also has different ambient music I like. Or, I listen to piano music (like Jim Brickman and many others). I love music without words – Yanni too:)

What is the starting point for research—story concept or when you get stuck while writing?

 SPD – Excellent question – I used to get caught up in research until I had a collection of superb information, but no where for it to actually fit into the story. Needless to say, a huge waste of my time and delayed my actual writing of the story. So, now, as I’m writing the story, I’ll make a comment/notation within the story that shows I need to research on that one subject. So much easier to do that way…after the book is in a first or second draft;)

Have you traveled to any locations that appear in your books?

I have been to most of my locations, otherwise, I use google satellite imagery and research. I do like being first-hand familiar with my locations:) Living in Michigan all of my life, a lot of my books take place there.

Can you share a tip about what you do when you get stuck in creating a story?

 SPD – There are a couple of things I do: first, I’ll reread what I’ve actually written, and now I keep a timeline of each chapter (which helps make sure I’m keeping on track without any repetition). Then I’ll go back to my plot points. Usually, when I’m stuck, it’s because my plot points have changed and I need to realign or update them.

Do you write in a genre other than the one of this release?

SPD – I use another pseudonym, DK Davis, for actually the same type of genre for Young Adult/New Adult.

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TAGLINE  

Trafficked girls marked to lose their souls by a malevolent supernatural entity require someone with explicit abilities for their rescue. Will Kendra be able to save them?

BLURB for Malevolent, a Kendra Sparks novel

Kendra Spark, suspense-mystery writer and communicator with the dead, signs on to the next FBI Special Task Force case, trafficked girls that are marked to lose their souls.

Jenna Powers, ghostified criminal analyst, sticks close to the case as she and Kendra are also marked by the same malevolent supernatural force.

Derek Knight, lead FBI Agent on this case, learns of the malevolent entity and the deeper paranormal realm of danger.

Kendra’s unfiltered feelings for Derek struggle to take a backseat, and as the menacing threat grows more intense, so does her passion for Derek.

Derek faces uncertainties he’s never dealt with in his past, like malicious entities and the loss of his heart to love. How can he protect Kendra against forces he can’t see?

As boundless supernatural danger intertwines with the future reality of the trafficked teens, Kendra and Jenna realize only they can shoulder the rescue by calling in a voodoo priestess…

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EXCERPT

We left in silence, and during the whole drive to Derek’s place, neither of us said a word.

As soon as we drove into his driveway and parked near his garage, outside lights popped on, streaming through the window and shining across Derek’s face. He turned to me and said, “So what did you not tell Jackson?”

“You gotta hand it to him, our Derek is a pretty receptive dude.” Jenna snickered from the backseat.

“I didn’t tell him about Buster, the malevolent spirit from the hotel. He’s also known as a soul-sucker.”

“What does that mean?” Derek’s back went rigid straight.

“It means those girls don’t know anything about their abuse because their souls are no longer inside their bodies. The soul-sucker absorbs them as his energy source.” There was no way I would tell him females were his favorite meal, or young girls were like a euphoric dessert. “Bertellia’s prostitutes’ souls have taken up residence inside the empty bodies of the teen girls. They are using them like a vessel.”

Derek’s eyes widened to the size of half-dollars. “Are you saying prostitutes live inside those kids?”

“Exactly.”

Derek climbed out of the SUV, and so did I. He went to the back and hauled out my luggage.

“I’m having a hard time wrapping my brain around this, Kendra,” Derek stated. “It sounds like something only a fiction writer would come up with as an explanation.”

Wow, what a blow, as if he stabbed a sharp blade directly into my heart and twisted it a million ways at once. Heat blasted across my face and scurried down my neck. Maybe I shared too much, too soon. I didn’t need him doubting me, nor did I need the hurt and frustration sweeping through me right now.

“How does this guy take their souls?” He stared at me, his startling blues went stormy. “Are you telling me this thing we dealt with inside the hotel room could have taken your soul? Or Jenna’s?” He hissed an exaggerated breath, dropping his gaze to the ground and shaking his head.

“Wow, keep it coming, Derek.” Jenna stepped next to me, punching her fists at him like a boxer on steroids. “Now what are you going to tell him? Hopefully, the truth. That both of our souls are marked by that soul-stealing freak for his consumption.”

That wasn’t what I would share with Derek, considering his acknowledgment of what actually happened in the hotel room. He had some understanding of the danger.

“So, what can stop it?” Derek spoke through clenched teeth, bringing me back to his previous questions. He was already overprotective, but what could he possibly do to protect us from Buster?

How would I respond? Clueless as to the extent of Buster’s abilities, but I was sure about what Grandma Ellie said, he could steal Jenna’s and my soul. Plus, a strong intuitive feeling told me in order to destroy that beast we would have to get up-close and personal with it.

“I’m sure I’ll find answers in Grandma Ellie’s journal. It’s the research I told you I still needed to do. I’ll require specific supplies and chants, and maybe someone else’s help.” Someone that knew about malevolent spirits and what it took to destroy them because right now I hung totally out of my realm. I needed to find Buster’s vulnerability, his number one weakness, his achilleas heel.

“All this supply stuff and chanting, that sounds like pagan lore. Are you a witch, Kendra?” He rolled his shoulders and his furrowed gaze melded into mine.

“I like to think of myself as a spiritualist.”

REVIEW COMMENTS

5 stars “Thrilling ride into the world of spirits.”
S. Peters-Davis takes us proficiently into the world of malevolent soul-sucking spirits. Woven well into the world of the FBI and police investigations we are taken on a whirlwind ride into the unknown.

5 Star – S. Peters Davis does a great job of layering the suspense, keeping track of her characters and developing the romance between Kendra and Derek as dark entities threaten their world.  Edge-of-your-seat action makes this a fast-paced read.

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S.Peters-Davis writes multi-genre stories, but loves penning a good page-turning suspense-thriller, especially when it’s a ghost story and a romance. When she’s not writing, editing, or reading, she’s hiking, RV’ing, fishing, playing with grandchildren, or enjoying time with her favorite muse (her husband) in Southwest Michigan.

As DK Davis, she also writes YA and NA paranormal, supernatural novels that involve diverse and mature subject matter.

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Upcoming release–Dulcina

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On November 15, Dulcina , my first contribution to the Widows of Wildcat Ridge multi-author series,  will release. On pre-order now.

The series is set in 1884 Utah Territory and involves the widows left behind after a gold mine disaster. Each story follows one of the widows as she rebuilds her life in the fictional town of Wildcat Ridge in the northeastern part of the territory.

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Left widowed following a Utah mining disaster, Dulcina Crass faces running a saloon on her own when her previous contribution was solely as the singer. She struggles to learn the necessary tasks but her heart isn’t in being a saloon keeper. All she ever wanted was to be a famous singer. Will asking Gabriel Magnus, a neighbor from her New Mexico hometown, bring the help she needs or a new kind of trouble?

Gabriel Magnus isn’t fulfilled by his role as ranch hand on the family’s New Mexico sheep ranch. What he wants is the chance to prove his boot making skills are good enough to start his own business. When he receives a letter from recent widow Dulcina offering a partnership in the Last Chance Saloon, he recognizes the chance to come to the rescue of the vivacious girl he wanted to court a decade earlier. Upon his arrival, he presents her with a demand–her answer could decide both of their fates.

AMAZON link

EXCERPT

“Ceremony?” Her eyes shot wide. “You intend us to be married today?”

“I do, and I’ll not marry a woman wearing mourning black.” The drab color did nothing to highlight her natural beauty. “You look fit to join the circle of viudas in the Questa marketplace.”

Lips pinched, she glanced around the immediate area. “But, Gabriel, I have been in mourning for Stuart since the mine disaster.”

He bristled at the mention of that man’s name but kept his expression calm. “A status that ends now. Stuart is gone, never to return in this lifetime.” When he spotted her lower lip quiver, he braced himself. The way their life would be structured moving forward had to be laid out. “Today will be the first day of our marriage, yours and mine, and he will not come between us. I will proclaim my vows next to a woman who looks to the future, not one who still clutches the past.” He stepped back to gather his luggage then carried it to where she stood. “Please show me to the saloon, where I assume you also live.”

“Oh.” She dropped her gaze and pulled at the strings on her reticule. “I thought you’d book a room in the hotel while we get reacquainted.”

If she thought she was the one making decisions, she’d been on her own too long. Maybe her late husband allowed that behavior. She might as well learn that he would not. He narrowed his eyes. “We will get reacquainted while living under the same roof.” The words “and in the same bed” remained unspoken. He didn’t think she was ready to hear his opinion of how the arrangement would play out.

“But Wildcat Ridge has no minister. Poor Reverend Bainum was lost in—”

“I know.” His voice snapped sharper than he intended. He held up a hand. “The mine collapse. The town can only be saved if you stop looking at what you lost and focus on what can be gained.” Realizing other people paid too close attention to their conversation, he clasped her hand and guided her to a nearby bench. “I am sorry, Dulcina. I do understand you have been through a loss. But that tragedy is not my experience. I see new opportunities, and I aim to grab them.” He smiled. “The best one is you.”

Her eyes shot wide. “I’d planned for us to take a day trip to Curdy’s Crossing on Saturday after the horse-related business is concluded. The church there is run by Minister Stone, and other widows have had him perform their wedding ceremonies. I thought we could marry after services on Sunday.” She ducked her head. “The marriage that is supposed to be only a formality.”

Guest Release–Star-Spangled Suspense (a multi-author boxed set)

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A boxed set collection of romantic suspense novels featuring Exciting Tales of Patriotic Heroes from the Past to the Present. Titles included are: Deathwatch by VB Tenery, Circles of Fate by Pamela S Thibodeaux, Patriot Hearts by Tammy Trail and Daring to Live by Mary Vee

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EXCERPT from Circle of Fate by Pamela S. Thibodeaux

Todd hung up the phone and walked back to his barracks. It was good to hear Mike Ferel’s voice, and even better to know Shaunna and her mother were well. Nearly three months had passed since he left Fort Benning. Less than twenty-four hours after he arrived at Fort Lewis, the Army quarantined him and the rest of his company and put them into isolation to await departure to Vietnam. For nearly two weeks they stayed quartered together with no outside contact. They lived together, slept together, and worked together to build comradeship with the men they would live with, fight with and, very possibly, die with.

They shared practical jokes, funny stories and lives as each man tried to banish the fear they all felt of going to war. They talked, laughed, and cried for hours on end as each prepared for what would be the toughest test of their strength, courage and faith. When the tension and anticipation of the wait began to work against them, orders came in that they would not be going to the jungles of Vietnam. However, before the cheers and shouts of gratitude died down, several of the men—Todd included—were hand picked and flown to Panama for Jungle Survival, a course designed to train soldiers in the art of guerrilla warfare.

For eight weeks the soldiers lived, ate, slept, and crawled through the jungles of Panama while playing a very real game of war. They learned to look out for themselves and each other and how to survive under some of the toughest circumstances man could invent. When they thought they had the course mastered someone would think up another form of torture to inflict on them and then train them to handle it.

It turned out to be the toughest eight weeks of their lives as day after day officers drilled them to expect the unexpected. They learned the most effective ways to watch their comrades’ backs, and most importantly, they learned the true meaning of the term CYA: cover your anatomy.

PamelaSThibodeaux

Award-winning author, Pamela S. Thibodeaux is the Co-Founder and a lifetime member of Bayou Writers Group in Lake Charles, Louisiana. Multi-published in romantic fiction as well as creative non-fiction, her writing has been tagged as, “Inspirational with an Edge!” ™ and reviewed as “steamier and grittier than the typical Christian novel without decreasing the message.” Sign up to receive Pam’s newsletter and get a FREE short story!

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Guest Release–Hope’s Dream by Peggy Jaeger

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Hope Kildaire gave up her dream of becoming a nurse practitioner when a car accident killed her father and left her mother an invalid. Working two jobs and caring for her mother leaves the twenty-seven-year-old with no time for fun or relationships. When a law firm representing her paternal grandparents sends her several letters, Hope ignores them. She despises the family who disowned her father and wants nothing to do with them.

Lawyer Tyler Coleman’s job is simply to obtain Hope’s signature on a legal document. Getting it is harder than planned, though, when an unexpected attraction blossoms between them. If Ty is honest with Hope about why he’s in Willow Springs, he’ll fulfill his assignment but may risk hurting her.

The opportunity to have everything she’s ever desired is at Hope’s fingertips. Will her dream come true at the expense of Tyler’s love?

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EXCERPT

He cleared his throat, breaking into her thoughts, the sound barreling around them on the empty street.

“Well.” He buried his hands deeper into his jacket pockets. “I can see for myself you’re fine. You’ve had a full day, so I’ll let you get on home. Thanks again for the great lesson this morning. And for keeping me company while you worked.”

“It was nice to have someone to talk with, so in reality, I should be thanking you. And for seeing that I was safe.”

She wasn’t sure why, but when his cheeks darkened and his chin and gaze dropped down again at her words, she was utterly enchanted.

Without thinking why she shouldn’t, Hope stretched up, intending to kiss his cheek. At the moment right before her lips touched his skin, Tyler lifted his head and turned toward her. The kiss meant for his face landed squarely across his lips instead.

They both went stone still at the contact.

She’d put no heat behind the kiss. After all, it wasn’t as if she were kissing a man she was involved with. No, she’d simply planned it as a sweet way to thank him for being so kind and solicitous toward her, as she would to anyone she considered a friend.

Why, then, didn’t this feel like a chaste kiss between friends?

Why, then, did she feel as if she’d been dropped into a spewing volcano?

And why, then, did the thought of breaking the kiss leave her cold and lonely?

Tyler kept his hands in his pockets, never moving closer, and yet she felt enveloped by him as if he’d wound her into his arms and pulled her against his body. He let out a deep, long breath, the warm air drifting over her face and sending little tingles of…something…straight down her spine. Anticipation? Expectation? Desire? She had no clue, but Hope felt more alive and more aware than she had in years.

A tiny gasp pushed from deep within her when Tyler shifted his head, changing the angle of the kiss.

His lips parted, the taste of hops and barley riding on his breath as she breathed him in. He kept the kiss light, never pushing her into more, giving her all the control of where it went.

Hope had no idea how long they stood there under the bright streetlamp on the empty corner. It could have been a minute. It could have been an hour. The notion briefly blew through her mind that they were out in the open in a town where everyone knew her and liked nothing more to do on long winter nights than gossip. As quick as it came, the knowledge that she didn’t care a whit countered it.

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Peggy Jaeger is a contemporary romance writer who writes about strong women, the families who support them, and the men who can’t live without them.

Peggy holds a master’s degree in Nursing Administration and first found publication with several articles she authored on Alzheimer’s Disease during her time running an Alzheimer’s in-patient care unit during the 1990s.

A lifelong and avid romance reader and writer, she is a member of RWA and her local New Hampshire RWA Chapter.

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Guest Release–The Fourth Victim by Beverley Bateman

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Sara’s emotionally abusive husband dies unexpectedly. She’s struggling to reclaim the intelligent, independent person she was before she married. Now she’s part of a special team, training to help other women.

Mac is responsible for training women in special ops, so they are prepared in their challenge to save other women. When he meets Sara, sparks fly between them. He wants her to quit the training and let him take care of her.

Sara graduates. Her first assignment is to save Sara’s daughter from a serial killer. Can Mac step back in this dangerous situation? Can Sara and Mac resolve their issues?

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EXCERPT

The office said he’d had a heart attack. Was he alive? Did she want him to be? What if her husband had to stay home for a few weeks to recuperate? Palms sweating, Sara’s breath came in short, shallow bursts at the thought.

The taxi jerked to a stop in front of the hospital emergency entrance.

Sara fumbled through her purse and counted out her meager number of dollar bills. Gordon didn’t allow her to have a credit card and he only allowed her to have a small amount of cash. She didn’t have enough money to pay the taxi.

“I’m so sorry. I left home without any cash. I…I … Would you take a check?” Tears spilled over and trickled down her flushed cheeks.

The driver spun around. A short stubby finger waved at the sign over the rearview mirror. “Look lady, it says right there – No Checks.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. My husband’s had a heart attack and I … I don’t know what to do.” Sara ran her fingers through her hair and scrunched the tight bun at her neck.

The driver shook his head. “Aw, shit. Go ahead, lady. Write the check.”

Sara pulled the single crumpled check Gordon allowed her carry for emergencies out of her purse. When she touched the check a vision of Gordon floated in front of her.

She froze and rapidly blinked her eyes. She only saw the ghosts of dead people. Gordon didn’t believe her and forbid her to ever mention it.

Could he really be dead?

“Gordon?” she whispered.

“Lady, are you writing that check or not?”

“Yes, sorry.” Sara scribbled her signature on the bottom of the check. “Please, fill it in, and give yourself a generous tip. Thank you, thank you so much.” She clutching her worn purse to her chest, slid out of the cab, and scurried through the emergency room doors.

What if he was dead? She didn’t have any money. Gordon did all the finances and never shared anything with her. How would she manage?

Twenty years ago she could have handled it. Could she do it again? But he couldn’t be dead. Gordon would never allow that to happen.

His face flitted in front of her, fixed in an angry glare.

He had to be dead or she wouldn’t be seeing him. He didn’t want to be dead. He didn’t want her to be free. If he thought she could see him he’d be furious.

Sara shuffled toward the reception desk. She glanced over her shoulder, searching for some sign of Gordon, listening for his voice, waiting for him to yell at her. She couldn’t believe he was really dead, even though she had seen him. She clung to the edge of the transition counter, her head down, chewed on her lower lip and waited to be noticed.

Finally a brusque voice snapped, “Can I help you?”

Sara looked up to see a heavy set, older woman in a loose blue top. The woman’s thick dark brows met in a v in the middle of her forehead.

“I’m sorry, I …I’m looking for my husband. His office phoned to say he’d been brought here.” Sara shrunk into her body.

“Name?” the woman commanded.

“Gordon, Gordon Peters.” Sara stared at her worn black oxfords, then at the scuffed, gray linoleum with the red, blue and yellow lines that led to different areas. Maybe she shouldn’t have come. Maybe she should have waited for Gordon to call and tell her whether she should be here or not. But if he was dead she would have to make her own decisions. Her pulse raced. Her head pounded. For the last nineteen years she had never made a decision. Gordon made all of them for her.

“When was he admitted?” The woman reminded Sara of a sergeant major.

“I’m not sure, less than an hour ago. They told me to meet him here. Maybe he’s been discharged already?” She chewed her thumbnail. If Gordon had been discharged he’d be furious at her for spending all that money on a taxi. But she’d seen his ghost.

Tension twisted her stomach into knots. The pain caused her to clutch her purse tightly against her abdomen. She needed to get home and start dinner. She’d have to take a bus. Did she have enough money? She opened her purse.

The woman moved to a second pile of folders and pulled one out. “You’re his wife?”

Sara nodded. “Yes. Can I see him?”

A sob slipped out. If she didn’t find see him soon, he’d be furious. He’d think she was too stupid to even find him in a hospital and he’d be right.

His ghost floated in front of her. This time confusion mixed with his anger.

“Have a seat, Mrs. Peters. I’ll have the doctor speak to you.”

BevB_Oct2

Beverley Bateman is a Canadian author now living in Medicine Hat, Alberta, with her husband and Shiba Inu dog. She’s exchanged the Okanagan vineyards and orchards for ranches. Winters she’s a snowbird. She writes the latest romantic suspense in both places. She enjoys reading, watercolor painting and the Native American flute.

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