Spotlight: Unravel by Aashna K.

Unravel
Aashna K.
(The Love Undone Series, # 1)
Publication date: March 27th 2018
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Unravel!

One Moment

That’s all it took for her life spiral out of her carefully crafted control.

One Encounter

That’s all it took for her to fall. Fall into the chasms of her dreams and Unravel.

~~~

With life betraying her plans and a future unyielding to her ambitions, Vienna Roy is at the most crucial crossroads of her life. Not wanting to look back and dishearten her already defeated heart, she accepts a challenge and starts afresh.

A new job, a new city and a new lease on life seems perfect, but it’s far from that. It’s a prismatic trap set by fate to lure her back to a time she has unwillingly left behind. Right back to him, the man in her dreams.

Kingston Sharp.

He’s a man of many talents. Fearless, Formidable, and charismatic, he blazes through every challenge that comes his way. He is a hard man to beat, and a harder one to forget. But behind the rock solid persona, lays the heart of a man who has been scarred, who has lost a lot in a very little time.

Putting in his all, he’s finally dealt with his past, shoving it in a dark corner of his heart. Forging forward, he forgets, only to find himself face to face with the one person who started it all. Her.

As the ghost of their past ignites its fury of passion, the best laid plans crumble and burn out. The inferno of their yesterday leaves nothing for them to control, ripping their hearts out. Fate makes its play, destiny intervenes and a love they never seized starts to Unravel!

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EXCERPT:

I closed my eyes and prayed, for an anchor, for a distraction, for a way to make it through.

“Why don’t we start with the meeting without wasting more time? I bet you all have things you need to get done.”

My eyes flew open, forgetting everything, wanting nothing more than to look in the direction of his voice. He walked past me toward his chair at the head of the table.

I couldn’t look away, absorbing every detail.

A full head of luxurious brown hair, cut to finesse, swayed gently as he moved, highlighting the natural shades of his hair in the sunlight peeking through the blinds.

He was wearing a white shirt, covered by a dark charcoal suit that accentuated his broad muscular shoulders.

The jacket did nothing to hide the form of his well-sculpted body, making it more prominent, presenting a perfect tease to the spectator.

Recalcitrant eyes travelled lower, following his footsteps, wholly captured by his presence.

A taut derriere flaunted long, lean legs that carried him with utmost confidence and surety to his chair.

I was captivated.

Everything around me became slow, too heightened, and nothing but my heart and his presence, his evasive, invasive presence mattered in this moment.

I observed everything about him, forgetting my entire existence. Such was my obsession with a stranger I didn’t know. I wanted to know him like the emotion that lived within me, that withering throb of emptiness. I wanted him to be the oasis that washed over the Sahara of my battered heart. I wanted to be set free.

And even without reason, from within the deep recesses of my fragile, empty existence, a voice boomed with utmost surety, stating this known stranger to be my demise…and my rebirth.

My eyes locked onto his neck, reveling in his very life force, the beat of his pulse as he adjusted his collar. What I felt for him was so carnal…I craved him, as he reached out to grab the arm of the chair, wanting nothing more than to be ravished by his touch.

I wanted to be the object of his affection.

Author Bio:

Aashna K is an up and coming author, who loves writing about love. Ever since she was a teenager, love stories have fueled her imagination, so finally, after over a decade of daydreaming and brainstorming, she took the plunge and grabbed the metaphorical pen and started writing. She enjoys writing stories about first love and second chances, and always gravitates towards characters that are strong, stubborn, and know who they are. Conflict and passion drives her stories and a strong pair of protagonists, makes the book.

Apart from writing she enjoys travelling, cooking and being silly with her husband and rambunctious Brittany spaniel.

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Spotlight: Don’t Look at Me by J.P. Grider

Don’t Look at Me
J.P. Grider
Publication date: March 29th 2018
Genres: New Adult, Romance, Suspense

Haven:
A diligent hand carved this hole in my face.
It stole my confidence, my identity, and ended my short-lived career as a broadcast journalist.
I am now unemployed. Alone. Ugly.
And expected to get over it and move on.
Go on living life as usual—as if the world doesn’t judge the grotesquely unattractive.

Quest:
It’s been three years since I was kicked out of the Army for nearly killing the opposition’s militia commander with my bare hands.
I am now unemployed. Alone. Angry.
And expected to forget the nightmares that hold me hostage and move on.
Go on living life as usual—as if the world doesn’t judge a dishonorably discharged ex-soldier.

Don’t Look at Me is a modern-day Beauty and the Beast tale—reversed and twisted. Because even the ugly need a good story, and even the beautiful are ugly deep down.

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—

EXCERPT:

(I know all too well that transitions are difficult)

When I moved to Jersey from California, I had no idea that days would go by where I wouldn’t think of the incident that led to my being other-than-honorably discharged. For me, the events of that night have been branded into my brain—the consistent nightmares the hot iron that won’t let the scars heal. But since finding out about Haven’s attack, I find myself thinking about her more and more—why was she walking alone in the middle of the night? What was going through her mind when she was so viciously attacked? What is going through her mind now? Was she raped? It isn’t part of the slasher’s modus operandi to sexually assault his attackers, but he also doesn’t carve out whole sections of skin in the faces of his victims. According to reports I’ve read over and over online since learning of Haven’s attack, his approach is to leave two parallel slash marks down the right side of his victims’ cheek. From what I could see in the dark, the heft of Haven’s lacerations are on the left side of her face. It doesn’t make sense. The Stratford Slasher has only attacked each of his victims once, but if Haven’s wounds weren’t inflicted by this same man, could the one that did hurt her return to finish the job? I wish she’d take me up on my offer to help me in the store. Then I could keep an eye on her and make sure that doesn’t happen. But she barely stays on the phone with me for two minutes when I call her to ask. And the only time she’s ever called me was to thank me for the supplies she very much needed during the storm two weeks ago. I know she has a lot to work through since her attack, but I wish she’d let me help her to get through this transition from on-air personality to whatever she needs to do next. Because I know all too well that transitions are difficult. Especially when that transition requires living an entirely different life than before.

With Haven at the forefront of my mind, I can’t help but blurt out a question during one of our group sessions. “How can I help a friend who doesn’t seem to want my help?”

“You don’t,” Warren says at the same time Mary asks, “What kind of help does your friend need?”

“She needs help getting her life back. It was pretty much taken from her when some loser used her face as a canvas to do with as he pleased.”

“Poor girl,” Mary says while the others mumble something similar.

“And now she won’t go out in public. She has her food delivered to her. She only goes out in the middle of the night, wearing a getup she thinks hides her face.”

“Does she trust you to help her, Quest?” Mary leans forward, crossing her hands over her lap. Mary’s name suits her. She’s kind, soft-spoken, and nurturing. The Virgin Mary, my mother would say. The Mother of all mothers.

I answer honestly. “She hasn’t known me long enough.”

“Until she can trust you, I don’t think she’s going to accept your help. Is she getting counseling?”

“I don’t think so.”

“It sounds like she could use some professional counseling, but would she be open-minded about giving this group a chance? To get her headed in the right direction?”

My eyes go to the fluorescent lights on the ceiling. “I doubt it.”

“Then, just be her friend. Don’t try to help her overcome this, just be there for her until she finds her way.”

So, that’s what I resolve to do. Be her friend.

Author Bio:

J.P. Grider is a New Adult/Young Adult author who is a sucker for a good love story—whether it's reading one or writing one. And when she's not reading or writing a fairy tale, she's living one with her husband, four children, and her little Auggie Doggie.

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Spotlight: Grown Ups’ Crusade by Audrey Greathouse

The Grown Ups’ Crusade
Audrey Greathouse
(The Neverland Wars #3)
Published by: Clean Teen Publishing
Publication date: March 27th 2018
Genres: Fairy Tales, Fantasy, Young Adult

Gwen has returned to Neverland with Peter Pan and the lost children, but this time, the adults are following close behind.

The Anomalous Activity Department has plans to finally conquer Neverland by bringing the final battle to the vulnerable island. The children will have to rally fairies, mermaids, and allies from other magical realms to stand a chance against the shadow-casting army of grown-ups heading for them.

The black-coat soldiers are far from their only problem. Lasiandra is missing. No one has seen her since Gwen left her at the lakeside with Jay, and the mermaids searching have found only grave omens in the stars. With the island on the cusp of a war that threatens to strip the land of its magic, the last thing Peter and Gwen need is the ancient flagship that appears on their horizon, sailing pirates straight for their shores.

When the battle begins amid old and new enemies, Gwen’s maturity will be a double-edged sword. She will either grow stronger or grow up… maybe both.

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EXCERPT:

Gwen gathered fruit as fast as she could in the dim of the early morning. Mangos and marionberries, peaches and papayas, star fruit and oranges… she shoved the land fruit into her bag, never breaking pace as she trekked weast across the island. She needed to get to the coast and back before any fairies awoke. The entire fairy population had indulged in joyful revelries the night before, celebrating some amorphous holiday unknown to humans. The dawn would find even the most temperate fairies still lolling in drunken dreams and merry slumber. But dawn had not yet arrived and not everyone slept; stars still speckled the bluing sky and certain inhabitants of Neverland were still speaking with them.

Tromping over vines and fungi, Gwen bushwhacked her way through the forest-jungle on anxious feet. The mermaids had not been helpful as of late.

The new mermaids she’d met wouldn’t even give her their names. Eglantine and Cynara had been snide at best, and contemptuous at worst. Gwen wouldn’t have minded it—she didn’t care what mermaids thought of her—but she felt certain they knew what had happened to Lasiandra and refused to explain. This drowsy morning offered her a chance to tempt them with an overabundance of land fruit without anyone noticing. She would persuade the mermaids to cede their starry secrets and hurry back before any stray fairy or curious child found her at the incriminating lagoon.

Gwen reached the wood’s end and hurried down the steps carved into the chalky cliff face. She moved so fast she half-flew toward the slender figures half-submerged in the lagoon.

Gwen had not seen Lasiandra since the night she escaped with Jay from Lake Agana. In the chaos, she had never retrieved the scale from Lasiandra, and thus lost her ability to call her friend. She hadn’t worried about it—until days and weeks passed without sight of her at the lagoon.

“What business have you with Lasiandra?” Eglantine had demanded last time Gwen visited. “What matter is she to you?”

“I’m just worried about her,” Gwen had answered, innocent and truthful. The region’s entire Anomalous Activity Department had been on duty that night, trying to apprehend lost children and capture whatever magic followed them. Lasiandra’s disappearance was ominous, to say the least. A few fairies had not returned from the mission, and there was no question of what fate had befallen them.

In response, the mermaids had only mocked her, contorting their melodic voices into cackling imitations of her land-dwelling accent, “I’m just worried about her.”

“Worried about her! Concerned about a mermaid?” Cynara had declared, insulted and amused. “We are not of such a feeble nature as you landmaids. Mermaids have more strength in a single scale than you have in all of your heart. You need not worry for a mermaid, girl. We can take care of ourselves.”

Gwen had wanted to believe her.

Author Bio:

Audrey Greathouse is a lost child in a perpetual quest for her own post-adolescent Neverland. Originally from Seattle, she earned her English B.A. from Southern New Hampshire University's online program while backpacking around the west coast and pretending to be a student at Stanford. A pianist, circus artist, fire-eater, street mime, swing dancer, and novelist, Audrey wears many hats wherever she is. She has grand hopes for the future which include publishing more books and owning a crockpot. You can find her at audreygreathouse.com

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Spotlight: Craving: Loyalty Anthology

Craving: Loyalty
Published by: Crave Publishing LLC
Publication date: March 27th 2018
Genres: Adult, Romance, Thriller

Loyalty.
Noun. ‘A strong feeling of support or allegiance.’
For some, loyalty can be bought. For others, it’s earned. But the thing about loyalty—it can change in an instant. All it takes is one act, one decision, and loyalty shifts to betrayal in the blink of an eye…a sin which cannot go unpunished.
Not in this world.
But sometimes things happen beyond our control, forcing our allegiances to change. Like the mob enforcer who wants nothing more than to seduce the assassin hired to kill him. Or the FBI agent who falls for the woman whose past holds ties with the mafia.
Yet, no matter the reason or motive, the consequences of betrayal are always deadly.
Because in this world everyone is…
Craving Loyalty

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Spotlight: The Duke of Ruin by Darcy Burke

The Duke of Ruin, an all-new historical standalone from USA Today bestselling author Darcy Burke, is LIVE!

With her betrothal to a duke in tatters and scandal imminent, Diana Kingman has two choices: live in certain ignominy or flee into obscurity. Diana wants solitude. She never wished to wed in the first place. However, her father will stop at nothing to betroth her to one of the finest titles in the realm...no matter how loathsome the bearer. Escape is Diana’s only option, and she’ll pay any price to achieve freedom.

Universally blamed for the death of his wife and unborn child, Simon Hastings doesn’t dispute his guilt over an accident he cannot even remember. He hasn’t had a drink since, nor a moment’s peace. Determined to be a better man, Simon rescues a young woman in need—only to be accused of kidnapping. They must marry to save him from prison. But how can a man haunted by the love he lost and a woman afraid to get too close find happiness together?

Excerpt

He turned from the fire and contemplated the bed. It was neither big nor small and would support a blanket between them. However, there was no dressing screen to allow for privacy.

He wasn’t entirely sure how to broach the sensitive topic of disrobing, but since they would be spending several nights together, it had to be done. He looked back at her over his shoulder. “You aren’t planning on sleeping in your clothes again, are you?”

She turned in front of the fire but didn’t come toward him. “I’d rather not. But I’m afraid I’m in need of assistance. Unfortunately, my wardrobe depends upon a maid.”

“I’d be happy to provide help. Just remember I’ve no experience as a ladies’ maid.”

“Did you never undress your wife?” She looked away, angling herself back toward the fire. “Forget I asked that.”

He went back toward her and spoke softly. “Don’t.” She turned her head, her blue eyes dark and vivid in the firelight. “We are going to get to know each other much better than we ought, and I don’t want you to regret things you might say. I assumed you would be curious about my wife. Yes, I undressed her. Many times. If I close my eyes, I can still feel her skin.” But he didn’t close his eyes. He couldn’t. She—Miss Diana Kingman—held him captive with her gaze.

Miss Kingman exhaled. “You must promise not to look. Aside from what you must do to unlace my gown.

“I promise.” He kept his voice and his gaze steady. “We must trust each other on this journey. Implicitly. That’s why I won’t shy away from your questions.”

She nodded, then presented her back. “Will you leave while I undress? I’ll need ten minutes or so. I’ll be in bed when you return and will close my eyes while you disrobe.”

It was a good plan, particularly since he thought a walk outside in the cold might do him some good. A beautiful woman’s back presented to him for the purpose of assistance with disrobing was too reminiscent of a time gone by and yet wholly new. Miss Kingman wasn’t Miriam, nor did he want her to be.

Simon quickly unlaced her gown and helped lift it over her head. He laid it across one of the chairs set at a small table and returned to help her remove her petticoat and unlace her corset. When he finished, he dropped his hands to his sides.

“I can finish,” she said, without looking back. “Thank you.”

He left without a word, closing the door firmly behind him. He inhaled sharply, taking perhaps the deepest breath he had in the last ten minutes.

Thankfully he didn’t encounter anyone on his walk. He wasn’t in the mood to made idle chatter. His thoughts were bad enough—railing at him for being attracted to someone who wasn’t his wife.

But how could he expect to go through life as he had the past two years? A self-hating, forlorn monk. Oh, he put on a good face for everyone else, but no one knew how acutely his pain cut.

Tomorrow, they would be on their way to Northampton, and hopefully, things would go as smoothly as they had so far. But first he had to spend the night in her bed. Again. Only with less clothing.

Thinking it had been well more than ten minutes, he made his way back upstairs. The lantern next to the bed had been extinguished, leaving just the light from the fire to illuminate the room.

Simon looked toward the bed. Miss Kingman lay near the edge of one side—as close as she could get without falling off, he noted—her back to the center of the bed, where it looked as though she’d rolled one of the blankets and placed it between them. He hoped there were enough coverings on the bed to keep them warm. Last night, they’d worn more clothing to bed.

Hell. He wore a nightshirt to sleep in or, most often, nothing at all. Tonight, he should probably keep his smallclothes on.

Shrugging out of his jacket, he hung it on a hook in the wall. He sat down to remove his boots, working as quietly and quickly as possible. When he’d removed everything but his shirt and smallclothes, he went to his side of the bed and crawled between the icy covers. He shuddered involuntarily and felt her jerk.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “Cold bed.”

“Very,” she responded, her low, feminine voice rustling over him like a fine silk.

He considered making an offer to warm them both up—body heat would be most beneficial. But that was likely a bad idea. For so many reasons.

He turned to his side, away from her, but snuggled his back against the rolled-up blanket. That would help with the cold. And the warmer he got, the more easily he would fall asleep. And the sooner he fell asleep, the sooner he could put the proximity of Miss Kingman out of his mind.

Too bad none of that happened very quickly at all.

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About Darcy

Darcy Burke is the USA Today Bestselling Author of sexy, emotional historical and contemporary romance. Darcy wrote her first book at age 11, a happily ever after about a swan addicted to magic and the female swan who loved him, with exceedingly poor illustrations. Join her reader club at http://www.darcyburke.com/readerclub. A native Oregonian, Darcy lives on the edge of wine country with her guitar-strumming husband, their two hilarious kids who seem to have inherited the writing gene, two Bengal cats and a third cat named after a fruit.

 

Spotlight: Sit, Stay, Love by Debbie Burns

These dogs aren’t the only ones in need of rescue

For devoted no-kill shelter worker Kelsey Sutton, rehabbing a group of rescue dogs is a welcome challenge. Working with a sexy ex-military dog handler who needs some TLC himself? That’s a different story.

Kurt Crawford keeps his heart locked away from everyone. Well, everyone except the dogs who need his help…and always have his back. But as Kurt gets to know the compassionate, beautiful woman he's been assigned to work with, he can't help but feel a little puppy love…

Excerpt

By the time Kurt stepped back into the shop, Kelsey was picking up their coffees from the barista. A flash of lightning lit the western sky.

“Seems like we’re going to get hit with another round. Want to make a break for it? It’s about a half a mile from here, isn’t it?” he asked.

“Probably closer to three-quarters.” She was still working to ignore the impression that his arm had left against her body. “Let’s step outside and check it out. There are awning-covered shops for the next quarter mile. We could get closer at least.”

“I hate to break it to you, but I don’t think awnings offer much protection from lightning.”

They stepped out into the dark, quiet street. On the way to the restaurant, the area had been bustling with people. Now, everyone seemed to have taken heed and headed home.

“So, may I ask what I’m about to have the pleasure of drinking?”

“Sure. I couldn’t decide, so I asked the barista, and she thought it was best to go with a basic mocha with whipped cream. And honestly, I’ve never met anyone who doesn’t enjoy a mocha. However, if you want, we can switch. I chose the rosemary–brown sugar tonight.”

“Here I thought for sure you’d pick pumpkin spice for yourself. And this is good.”

They walked in silence at a clipped pace. Kelsey missed his arm around her, but with the coffees and the speed they were walking, it wasn’t warranted. They’d reached the end of the shop-lined street and were about to turn onto a residential one when a flash of lightning lit up the entire sky and thunder boomed all around. Before it quieted, large splashes of rain began to fall.

Kurt grabbed her hand and started to backtrack. “It’s too close. That covered bus stop a hundred feet back is the safest thing around.”

Kelsey nodded, needing no convincing after that flash. The individual splashes became a downpour twenty feet before they reached the bus stop. “Holy crap, this rain is so cold!”

She felt lost when they made it inside and he let go of her hand. The rain was coming in at an angle, so they huddled as close to the back wall as possible in the narrow space next to the bench.

Using his thumb, Kurt brushed a drop of water off her cheek. As much from his touch as from the run, Kelsey’s heart pounded louder than the rain.

“Are you cold?”

She shook her head. “No, not anymore.”

He was staring at her, not the rain. Thunderstorms are on the top of his list. He should be watching the storm, she thought.

How long had it been since he’d been with someone? she wondered. He might have been on active duty, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t had opportunities. But he didn’t seem like the type to get laid just to get laid.

Her mind was racing. She needed to focus, but he was staring at her as though he couldn’t see anything else. Say something, Kelsey. “Want to try mine? It’s not quite as sweet.” Seriously? That was the best you could do?

“Yes.” He sat his cup on the bench and reached for hers. Their fingers brushed, and a jolt of electricity raced up her arm.

She blinked in confusion as he set her cup next to his. When he turned toward her, his gaze was on her lips. He slipped one hand into her hair, gently cupping the back of her head above her neck. With his other hand, he traced her lips. She wanted to keep her eyes open, to know when the kiss was coming, but they closed involuntarily as his fingers moved lower, tracing her neck and sternum. Her lips must have parted because she felt his thumb return to her mouth, brushing over her lips and connecting with her teeth.

Then he shifted and his lips pressed against hers softly, as if seeking permission. She opened her mouth in reply, and the kiss intensified. It was like nothing she’d ever felt, the sweetness of his mouth against hers. His lips were firm, and he tasted so damn good. His hand left her neck and slipped underneath her sweater, caressing the skin at the small of her back.

Kelsey’s knees were turning to jelly. She draped her arms over his shoulders, lost her fingers in his hair. Please don’t ever let him stop. The kiss deepened, and his tongue met hers. Their bodies pulled together like magnets.

She was getting lost even further when he pulled away abruptly, stepping back just far enough to break the magnetic connection. “You’re wrong,” he said, his voice thick and husky. “It’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.”

Then he started kissing her again, and Kelsey was fairly certain nothing would ever be the same.

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About the Author

Debbie Burns lives in St. Louis with her family, two phenomenal rescue dogs, and a somewhat tetchy Maine coon cat who everyone loves anyway. Her hobbies include hiking, gardening, and daydreaming, which, of course, always leads to new story ideas.

Find Debbie Online: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads 

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