Tuesday, December 29, 2015

ACED Excerpt Reveal Banner

Colton Donavan is back in ACED January 11, 2016!


Synopsis:

Rylee and Colton's ride continues... One moment. Six years ago. The night she made the world around me so much more than just a blur. Now it's the catalyst that threatens to tear us apart. Our happily was supposed to be ever after. So why do I feel like it's slipping through my fingers? How can one moment, when our world seemed so right, resurface and cause our perfect life to spiral out of control? I can't lose her. She's my checkered flag. Aced - PreOrder

Now available for Pre-order!

Excerpt:

I talked to my parents. To Tanner. To Shane.My voice fades off as the disbelief I have to take stock and let him know the damage control Ive done takes hold. Unsure how to respond to me when hes always so sure, he just nods his head as our eyes hold steadfast. I just dont know...My voice is so soft, it sounds so very different than the storm of anger that rages inside me, and yet I cant find it within me to show my emotions. I can feel his fingers tense from my comment, see his Adams apple bob from the forced swallow, and notice the tick of muscle as he clenches his jaw. Well get through this. The condescending chuckle falls from my lips, the first break in my fraudulent faรงade because its so damn easy for him to say. I know.Voice back, emotion nonexistent, tone unsure. Colton stares, willing me to say more but I dont. I just match him stare for hollow stare as images of myself from Google flickering through my mind. Finally he breaks out connection and reaches his fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose before blowing out a sigh. Scream at me, Ry. Yell. Rage. Take it out on me. Do anything but be silent because I cant handle when youre silent with me,he pleads. All I can do is shake my head, dig down within myself to will the emotion to come. When I cant find the words or the feeling behind them, it unnerves him, worries him. Im sorry, baby. Were we stupid? Maybe. Do I regret it?He shakes his head. I regret all of this, yes, but that in general? No. So many damn things happened that put you and me where we are now. So for that? Im not sorry. You pushed me that night, made me question if I could give someone more of myself.He reaches his free hand up to brush a thumb over the line of my jaw. His touch reassuring, his words helping soothe the sting of our situation. Its not your fault,I say, trying to ease the concern in his eyes. Maybe not directly . . . but I made you color outside of your perfectly constructed lines . . . do something against your nature, and look what happened. Im so sorry. I wish I could make this right,he says, dropping his head as he shakes his head in defeat. All I can try to do is mitigate the damage. Thats it.He throws his hands up. Its killing me because I cant fix this. The break in his voice and the tension in his body would have told me everything I needed to know even if he hadnt uttered a sound. I look at my achingly handsome husband, so distraught, so desperate to make wrongs right that arent his to be held responsible for. And seeing him as upset as I am makes me feel a little better and allows me to dig into the deep well of emotion. I finally find the words I need and want to tell him. The decisions I came to last night when I sat on the deck and considered the life-altering situation we were in. Stop. Please quit beating yourself up over this. I dont blame you.I pause, my teeth worrying my bottom lip as I put words to my thoughts and wait for him to hear that last sentence. Aced- Midas

About the Author:

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author K. Bromberg writes contemporary novels that contain a mixture of sweet, emotional, a whole lot of sexy and a little bit of real. She likes to write strong heroines and damaged heroes who we love to hate and hate to love. Shes a mixture of most of her female characters: sassy, intelligent, stubborn, reserved, outgoing, driven, emotional, strong, and wears her heart on her sleeve. All of which she displays daily with her husband and three children where they live in Southern California. On a whim, K. Bromberg decided to try her hand at this writing thing. Since then she has written The Driven Series (Driven, Fueled, Crashed, Raced), the standalone Driven Novels (Slow Burn, Sweet Ache, Hard Beat, Aced (a new Rylee and Colton novel releasing 1/11/16), and a short story titled UnRaveled. She is currently working on new projects and a few surprises for her readers. She loves to hear from her readers so make sure you check her out on social media.
Connect With Kristy
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Monday, December 7, 2015

lace up


Stacey has a book recommendation just for you.
Check out Lace Up on Goodreads.

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/24881174?source=ebfg_email







https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/24881174?source=ebfg_email

Ok I've just finished this book
I got it yesterday and finished today , I couldn't put it down to the point work got in my way .....
Team Ryan oh hell yes
These girls are amazing from the word go I knew I'd love em .
The airport trip is a blast .......
And Jetts team omg hot as hell and twice a typical rich boys or are they ....
You get a really good insight to the girls story and how they blend together 3 girls thick as thieves and the reason behind why they need to win .
Jett and the boys yes there preppy and all that look good but is there more .
Rose Ryan wow that girl is who I'd like to be or who I could look up to or wanna be lol .
Ok there's lots of bonuses to been rose when you read you will get my drift .
The boys are he'll bent on a win no matt what they haven't even contemplated they could loose .
This book activated my imagination and kept me captivated all the way to the very last word . I do have to say I needed more I didn't want it to end .
I wanted to see what happens after .......
This book is amazing the author is a great writer and you could tell this by the flow of the book and the intensity in some of the chapter they had me gasping and shouting all at once .
Well written a easy 5 stars

Hope and pray there's a next book

Tuesday, September 22, 2015

Dead of night

HTML Dead of night Carlyle labuschagne


Dead of night was first published in 2014 in the USA

Nominated by best kindle hub for Best Dystopian 2014 
Nominated for UtopYAcon Best Dystopian book 2015
And has since been re edited with new content for
Fire Quill Publishers


In a dark and desolated After Earth, love still does exist, but the cost of bearing such a flaw is death.


World War III has left Earth in utter turmoil. People’s beliefs are said to be the cause of the worldwide destruction. After The Clearing new laws are set about - to show certitude in anything besides the law is weak and chargeable as mutiny. To be illogical and have faith in religion is illegal, to be limitless is dangerous. And Illness is seen as a defect – all flaws that are inexcusable.
But to love is the greatest betrayal of all man kind. It is a fault the world has long forgotten and punishable by death, a fatal risk Aecker and Opel are fully prepared to take - because in love there is freedom. But how far can they push back before it claims their lives and of those they care about?


Buy on Smashwords. Amazon. Barnes & Noble 




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Check out DON creative page including the playlist
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RADIO INTERVIEW





Carlyle is an South African award winning author, with a flair for mixing genres and adding loads of drama to every story she creates. For now she is happy to take over the world and convert non Sci-fi believers.
Her goal as an author is to touch people's lives, and help others love their differences and one another by delivering strong messages of faith, love and hope within every outrageous world she writes about.
"I love to swim, fight for the trees, and am a food lover who is driven by my passion for life. I dream that one day my stories will change the lives of countless teenagers and have them obsess over the world literacy can offer them instead of worrying about fitting in. Never sacrifice who you are, its in the dark times that the light comes to life."

Carlyle used writing as a healing tool and that is why she started her very own writers support event - SAIR bookfestival.
 "To be a helping hand for those who strive to become full times writers, editors, bloggers, readers and cover artists - its a crazy world out there you dont have to go it alone!"
follow @CarlyleL for all the crazy updates on all things me.

Founder of 
SAIR Book Festival

Co Founder of Fire Quill Publishing.
Founder of Help build a library in South Africa. 






Tuesday, September 15, 2015



***Available at $0.99 for pre-order. Released 9/20***

A Blast from the Past (A Second Chance Romance)

Amazon - http://www.amazon.com/Blast-Past-Second-Chance-Romance-ebook/dp/B015DMW60Q

Amazon UK - http://www.amazon.co.uk/Blast-Past-Second-Chance-Romance-ebook/dp/B015DMW60Q

It will also be available through kindle unlimited.

I had a best friend. His name was Zander. We spent four amazing years together. Then he left me.

It had been sixteen years since I'd heard his voice or seen his face.

I'd spent the last two of those years helping his mom care for his sick father.

Not for one second did I think he'd come back.

I was wrong.

When he walked back into my life as if nothing happened, I didn't know what to do.

A few days. He was only going to be there a few days. What could it hurt?

When secrets were revealed, I realized something. Maybe he hadn't left me. Maybe he was the there the whole time.

I just had to figure out what that meant.

Monday, September 14, 2015

Super natural

 
Join the Facebook Discussion Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/434753706727619/
Supernatural Chronicles: New Orleans Beneath the brow of Bourbon and French architecture, the iris of New Orleans swirls with flecks of worlds and beings unknown to mankind. Come with us as we chronicle their journey—each supernatural race must hunt for an offering in hopes of saving their own. Skinwalkers, Wolves, Vampires, Dragons, Succubi, Witches, Necromancers, Cupids, and Asgardians are all in danger of losing control as an uprising darkness threatens to rip the veil that protects them all from the great beyond. Ten original novellas, following each supernatural race as they fight an elusive enemy, are written by New Adult authors Lila Felix, Kristie Cook, Brenda Pandos, Delphina Henley, Julia Crane, Jamie Magee, Morgan Wylie, Kallie Ross, S.T. Bende, and Rebecca Ethington. Come join them for the hunt and discover hidden treasures inside. ~ The first supernatural chronicle will be release October 26th, and then weekly until the final release December 21st. Every week a different paranormal’s story will be told, and a relic will be revealed. Readers will be able to join in the hunt and win prizes. Whether you love witches, angels, or werewolves, New Orleans is being flooded with the supernatural this Fall. A boxed set will be available in early 2016, following the individual publications. Anyone that enjoys reading New Adult Paranormal won’t want to miss this release of novellas.  
Titles Include:
Supernatural Chronicles: The Skinwalkers by Lila Felix
Supernatural Chronicles: The Wolves by Kristie Cook
Supernatural Chronicles: The Vampires by Brenda Pandos
Supernatural Chronicles: The Dragons by Delphina Henley
Supernatural Chronicles: The Succubi by Julia Crane
Supernatural Chronicles: The Witches by Jamie Magee
Supernatural Chronicles: The Necromancers by Morgan Wylie
Supernatural Chronicles: The Cupids by Kallie Ross
Supernatural Chronicles: The Asgardians by S.T. Bende
Supernatural Chronicles: The Noir by Rebecca Ethington
 
Giveaway
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About Dynamis
The unseen force within, Dynamis, was something the Greeks knew to be vital, vigorous, powerful, positive, enterprising, magnetic, and above all passionate. We are the authors who strive to weave our stories from this great unknown.

Wednesday, September 9, 2015

Pushing the limits

PTL Banner PTL_FrontCoverAdd to Goodreads Synopsis
He’s my art professor.
I’m his student.
With an electric connection and undeniable chemistry, I know it won’t be long until one of us cracks.
When the opportunity arises to pose naked for the entire art class, I can’t help the thrill of knowing he’ll be watching me.
While they all look past me with their eyes narrowed and concentrated, drawing only the lines and angles of my body, he sees right through me down to my vulnerability.
He sees more than just the physical aspects—he sees me.
That’s when I see the struggle in his features as he tries to stay in control.
How do we keep our distance when everything seems to be pulling us together?
What feels so right can only go wrong if we keep pushing the limits.
8-4 TEASER
Excerpt

PROLOGUE

ASPEN
I step inside the doorway, immediately hit with the mixed aroma of mildew and lavender from all the flower arrangements. I narrow my eyes, trying to adjust to the dim lighting. It’s eerily quiet, the service not due to begin for another hour. My mother was hysterical all night long, crying in her room. I heard her through the bedroom door, but I didn’t go to her. I couldn’t. I know she blames me. Mom hadn’t said a word to me all morning, so I asked my older brother, Aaron, to take me early. I want to see Ariel before everyone else starts arriving. See her one last time. I walk down the short hallway and into the room her service is being held in. Chairs are all lined up perfectly, row by row. The room will probably fill up quickly of family and friends, all coming to give their condolences. I swallow as I step closer, her casket already open. I notice faint music playing overhead through the speakers. It’s meant to sound soft and soothing, but I don’t know how anything can soothe away the ache burning in my chest. I glance around and notice the walls look as if they were painted a hundred years ago. The faded beige carpet is almost nonexistent. Flowers surround her on one side and a table of vanilla scented candles on the other. Nothing in this whole room represents her except the collage board of pictures she had hanging in our room. She made it two summers ago and had been adding pictures of her friends and us ever since. It captures every part of her personality. We lived on farmland with only fields surrounding us. No neighbors or friends to play with meant we’d learned to entertain ourselves. I remember the day she got a new camera for Christmas and immediately started taking pictures—of everything. We’d giggle and snap pictures of each other, torment Aaron and take his picture when his girlfriend was over, and take about a hundred pictures of our pets. I smile at the memories but at the same time feel like crying because now there won’t be anymore. The memories we’ve made the last fourteen years are all I have left of her. When Pastor Jay asked us to bring in our favorite pictures of her, I knew immediately she’d want these. I step closer and examine them, even though I’ve looked at it every single day for the past two years. Somehow today, it looks different. There’s the one of us standing in front of the middle school on our first day of seventh grade. We were assigned different homerooms and weren’t happy about being apart. Another one shows us with our dog, Fudge, the first day we brought him home from the shelter. We’ve only had him for six months now. He was a rescue and she said she knew he was the perfect fit for our family. After tracing the lines of each picture, I slowly walk to her casket. I pleaded with my mom to let her wear her favorite purple dress, but she refused. She said it was an ‘occasion’ dress, AKA—a happy occasion. Instead, she picked out a dark, navy blue dress that she absolutely loathed wearing. My lip curls up on one side thinking how much she’d hate wearing this dress right now. She hated wearing dresses in general, but now, oh she’d be so pissed. Part of me wants to laugh at the irony and the other part wants to rip it off her and sneak the purple dress on. I glance down at her, curling my fingers tightly around the edge of her casket. She looks flawless, almost like she’s just sleeping. Even looking at her right now, seeing that she isn’t breathing anymore, it hasn’t all sunk in. For the first time in days, I let myself cry. I cry harder than I ever have, I’ve held the tears in, trying to remain strong for Mom, but I can’t do it anymore. I release all the pain I’ve kept inside and apologize to her over and over. “I’m so sorry, Ari. God, I’m so, so sorry.” I blink, wiping my cheeks off. “You hated that nickname,” I say, letting out a short laugh. I exhale a deep sigh. “I’m going to miss you so much,” I whisper, reaching for her hand. “I’m going to miss you sneaking in my bed and sleeping with me every time a storm hit. I’m going to miss staying up late on weekends, gossiping about Brady Carmichael and all the guys on the basketball team. Or the girls who think purple lipstick is in.” I chuckle softly to myself. “I’m even going to miss arguing with you over who gets to use the shower first. It was like our little tradition, I guess.” My lips soften, curling up on both sides at the happy memories. “Truthfully, I’m going to miss everything about you.” I lean down and kiss the top of her forehead. “I love you.” I hear footsteps in the hall and take that as my cue to start heading out. People will be arriving soon, and I’m not quite sure I’m strong enough to deal with everyone. Half feel sorry for me and the other half blame me. I’m not sure which one is worse. “Aspen…” I hear my dad’s deep voice. I turn and face him, his lips set in a firm line, his eyes as empty as I feel right now. “Your mother wants to talk to you.” I swallow at his tense features, but nod and follow him out of the room. He’s barely speaks or looks at me now. I’m only a constant reminder of what happened—of who he’s lost—of how our lives are forever changed. He leads me to a small room on the other side of the hall where she’s sitting with her nose buried in a handkerchief. I stand in front of her and wait. I’m not sure what to say to my mom right now—or anyone for that matter. I’m not sure there’s anything I can say. “I need to hear the story one more time,” she chokes out. “I need to hear why my baby girl is dead.” Her head is low and she refuses to look at me. I’ve told her and the police the story several times already, but every day since the incident she’s demanded to hear it again. “Mom…” I begin, my eyes filling up again. “I can’t. Not again.” “Tell me!” She raises her voice, finally tilting her head to look up at me. Her face contorted in a mixture of grief and disgust. I do as she says. I repeat the story the same exact way I did the first dozen times. No matter how much it hurts to talk about, I explain what happened. “How could you let that happen?” she mumbles. “How could you be so careless? I just don’t understand!” “Mom, it’s not Aspen’s fault…” Aaron interrupts, stepping next to me. “Mama, I’m sorry,” I burst out through a new wave of tears. I’ve apologized to her and Daddy over and over. But I know they’ll never forgive me. I’ll never forgive me. Aaron wraps an arm around my shoulders and cradles me to his chest. I hear my mom huff in disapproval. I push against his chest, wiping the tears off my cheeks as I storm off. I’ll never forget the way her eyes widened in fear as she fell to her death. The way her body lay on the ground, motionless. The way her voice begged for my help as she screamed on the way down. I’ll never forget. I don’t tell Mom and Dad those things though. The images already haunt me in my sleep. The sound of her screaming has woken me up the past two nights. Every time I attempt to fall asleep, her dead eyes appear in my mind. It’s no use, I tell myself. There’s barely a difference between existing and sleeping now. Life without her is pointless. People start arriving, so Mom, Dad, Aaron, and I all stand in the front near her casket. I swallow my emotions down and refuse to cry. I shut down. I shut everything down. I let them hug me and say how sorry they are for our loss. I let them cradle my head as they press me against their chests. I let them squeeze my hands as they tell me how much she will be missed. I let them do whatever they need to express their feelings. But I don’t cry. I quietly thank them and look down at my feet. When the service is over, we gather at the cemetery to bury her. A large bouquet of white lilies rests on her closed casket. I step forward and pull one out for myself before they lower her in the ground. Mom and Dad do the same, but they don’t look at me. Dad wraps his arm around her shoulders, holding her close as she cries. I grip the obituary program tightly in my hand and stare down at her picture displayed on the cover. Mom used her most recent school photo from this past year, although it hadn’t been her favorite. I don’t know why though, she looked stunning as usual—bright smile, sparkling green eyes, and flowing golden blonde hair. Underneath it reads, Loving Daughter and Sister. Gone too soon, but never forgotten. 4-10-1995 to 4–10-2009. She died on our birthday. I swallow as I take it all in. April tenth was our favorite day. We’d wake up early to Mom making us our favorite breakfast—the only day of the year she’d make it—Belgian waffles with melted cream cheese frosting drizzled on top and then slathered in homemade maple syrup. She used fresh blueberries—instead of frozen—on top. She called it our special birthday breakfast and every year we looked forward to it. After breakfast, we’d rip our presents open from our parents and later on exchange the ones we made for each other. For the last few years, we’d talk Mom into letting us skip school for the day. She wouldn’t even bother arguing with us, knowing she’d eventually cave anyway. So when we woke up on our birthday five days ago, we’d done everything the exact same. We laughed all through breakfast. Mom was going on and on about how she couldn’t believe how grown up her baby girls were getting and how old that made her feel. Aaron was three years older than us, but apparently he was born out of wedlock and didn’t count in her aging process. After we finished eating, Mom handed us each a card and watched as we ripped them open. We both squealed when we saw the hundred-dollar bill tucked inside. As we wrapped our arms around her, she lectured us. “Don’t spend it all in one place, girls!” We then begged her to take us to the mall so we could of course spend it on clothes and makeup. “You’ll have to wait until your father gets back,” she said, piling the dishes into the sink. We ran upstairs and got dressed, setting our money down on the dresser and running back outside. It was warm for April, just a slight breeze in the air. It was perfect. I smile at the memory of our birthday traditions. It was something we’ve always shared. Should have shared forever. She’d always tease me about how she was older, granted it was only by three minutes, but now the day would be pointless. A painful reminder of what happened. Of what I lost.
8-23 PTL
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About the author

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Brooke Cumberland is a USA Today Bestselling author who's a stay-at-home mom and writes full-time. She lives in the frozen tundra of Packer Nation with her husband, 4 year old wild child, and two teenage stepsons. When she's not writing, you can find her reading love stories, listening to music that inspires her, and laughing with her family. Brooke is addicted to Starbucks coffee, leggings, and anything sweet. She found her passion for telling stories during winter break one year in grad school and she hasn't stopped since.
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Saturday, August 29, 2015

Best friend

Evening
The book below The American & The Brit .

Julie is my best friend and she has co-wrote this .
It's a awesomely funny book
Please read the blurb and hopefully you will love as much as me and order .

The American and The Brit ~ K.A. Young & Julie Bromley.

Pre-Order special offer ~ 0.99c.

Life isn’t easy.

Just ask American born Phoebe Hawkins and British born Lizbeth Bates, two insecure women in their mid twenties who are trying to stay positive in the face of their own awkwardness, chaos, and utter humiliation.

Friends for nearly ten years, Phoebe and Liz are well aware that neither of their brains possesses a filter. After Liz moves from the UK to America the two accidentally land jobs at an up and coming media company that is testing their very own version of a modern day Dear Abby/Agony Aunt advice column.

Laughter, tears and inappropriate behavior follow as the two desperately try to live up to their role as The American and The Brit.

Links –
Amazon US - http://amzn.to/1Ivdyv1
Amazon UK - http://amzn.to/1NyGFxk
Barnes & Noble - http://bit.ly/1GytRBp
iBooks - http://apple.co/1J9Xvnq
Nook UK - http://bit.ly/1SJHOF7
Kobo - http://bit.ly/1JA5Oq9
Smashwords - http://bit.ly/1K2El1u

Wednesday, August 26, 2015

So ha and candice

Thunderclap       LA Title LA.Ebook.Amazon
I’ve met boys like him before. Rich. Bored. Always wearing a silver-spooned smile. But there is something different about him that piques my curiosity. The way he looks at me, like he is staring through the bars of a gilded cage he’s never left. Like he is one breath away from suffocating beneath a mound of responsibilities. He is different from the rest because he doesn’t wear his money… his money wears him. I just don’t think he knows it yet.
She’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. She’s everything I’ve never been able to be. Carefree. Whimsical. A dreamer. Her laugh is infectious. She is irresistible. I can’t help but be drawn to her with an intensity that steals my breath and muddles my senses. I want to know her, need to know her, but how can I allow myself that liberty when I don’t have the freedom to make my own choices?
Phillip and Maggie think they have it all. Even though they come from opposite backgrounds, they each have bright futures paved out, with no distractions holding them back.
Until the fateful day they meet each other.
After a brief, adventurous time together in The Hamptons, Maggie and Phillip find themselves saying goodbye just as the spark of love flashes intensely between them. Can their budding connection be enough to survive the pulling tides of change, or will they drift apart before they even have a chance to explore what could have been?
AVAILABLE NOW:
Kindle
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Excerpt
Charlie tossed back the rest of his fourth beer and asked for two more. He was going for a record tonight. “Why don’t you just keep the cooler by you?” I asked, digging my hands through the ice again. My fingers felt like frozen popsicles by the time my hand wrapped around a can since we’d blown through the bottles he’d brought. “Because the beer tastes better when you’re handing them to me.” “Is that so?” I replied. A mischievous smirk crossed my lips. When he wasn’t looking, I shook his beers up and walked them over to him. He leaned back to look up at me, a grin eating up the whole of his face. “Finally decided to succumb to me?” he jokingly asked. “How can I resist?” I said, smiling as I cracked open the first beer, tilting it down at him, showering him in sudsy foam. He rolled out of his chair, curse words peppering the air as I cracked the second can and pointed it toward Hannah and Caleb. “Maggie!” Hannah shrieked as she jumped out of her seat, beer covering the front of her shirt. “Get up, you bunch of boring yuppies!” I shouted. “The night is young and the water’s warm!” Without words, they were up on their feet, laughing and shucking out of their clothes as they headed down toward the water. I turned back to the fire, tossing the beer cans back into the cooler, when Phillip caught my eye. He was standing up. Standing so still and so close to me that it made me draw in a sharp breath. “Is this the part where you tell me you have some kind of superpower that allows you to move from one spot to the next without notice?” I joked, wiping my sticky hands down the front of my jeans. There was a new look in his relaxed gaze. A look that made my heart somersault. A look of attraction and curiosity. “Are you going with them?” he asked, his heavy eyes drifting over my face, down to my lips where they stayed. I reflexively licked them, feeling the sun awaken beneath my skin. “Usually I do,” I replied, wondering why I suddenly felt like I had laid out in the sun all day. “How about you? Do you like to skinny dip?” “Can’t say that I’ve tried it yet,” he said, still watching me so intensely that it made my feet want to squirm. And my feet never squirmed. I pushed at his shoulder, trying to dispel the heat growing between us. “Well, there’s a first time for everything, right?” I didn’t wait for his response. I just grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head, dropping it to the sand below. Modesty was a seven-letter word I had yet to comprehend. I was thoroughly surprised when he didn’t look away. His gaze wasn’t even bashful like I’d assumed it would be when he roamed the length of my body, and it stirred something inside of me that had no business being stirred. “Come on,” I said, putting my best laugh forward. “You can’t skinny dip with your clothes on.” It was like my laugh woke him back up, because he smiled lazily, unbuttoned his shirt, and shrugged it from his shoulders, dropping it on top of mine. “That’s better,” I said, fiddling with the button on my jeans. It took me more time than it should have, because I couldn’t keep my eyes from his perfectly tanned, perfectly chiseled abs. I shimmied out of my jeans as quickly as I could, and then laughed when he nearly toppled over from his foot getting stuck in one of his pant legs. He grabbed onto my arms, using me to steady himself, and then we both laughed. “My apologies,” he said, his smile reaching from ear to ear as he clung to me. Why did I have to notice how good he smelled? Like sandalwood. “No worries,” I said, setting him straight on his feet. Dropping down, I held his pants while he stepped out of them, trying not to think too much about how close we were. “I’ve fallen way more than I’d care to admit to anyone.” “Come on, Maggie!” Hannah called. She was splashing and laughing as Charlie and the guys took turns shoving each other under the water. “Are we taking off our underwear now?” Phillip asked as soon as I stood back up. I had to admit, I was momentarily shocked by his question. But he quickly recovered by adding, “Or do we do it right before we get in the water?” I stared at him for a moment, enjoying the new sensation of shock that he brought out in me. It wasn’t often that someone thoroughly surprised me. It was fun. Enlightening. Without answering him, I just smiled and then reached behind me, unclasping my bra and letting it fall onto the pile of clothes at my feet. A second later, I was out of my underwear, enjoying the feel of the breeze against my bare skin. “Last person in has to clean up around the fire pit!” I shouted, turning from his wide-eyed stare and racing for the water.
ABout sonya- Sonya Loveday, first and foremost is a reader, an avid one. It is of that love that brought her to purchasing her first laptop in 2009, and publishing her first novel, Casted, in 2013. In early 2014, Sonya expanded Casted and then went on to publish Spelled, the sequel to Casted in March, wrapping up the series, and her stint with Paranormal Romance. For now. Not long after the completion to the Casted Series, Sonya tried her hand at New Adult/Coming of Age, a sub-genre of Contemporary Romance. Thusly, the Six were born with The Summer I Fell, which released at the end of July 2014. The demand from readers was instantaneously, which brought about End Note, the second book of the series in December 2014, and book three, If Ever I Fall, in June 2015. To date, Sonya lives in Central Florida with her husband, and two kids, and is currently working on the fourth book of the Six Series. Be sure to keep an eye out for upcoming news on Sonya's website!  
Books By Sonya Loveday
The Six Series:

The Casted Series:
Candace
Candace Knoebel is the award-winning author of Born in Flames—book one in a young adult fantasy trilogy. She discovered in 2009 through lunch breaks and late nights after putting her kids to bed, a world where she could escape the ever-pressing days of an eight to five Purgatory. And an outlet for all the voices residing in her head. Published by 48fourteen in 2012, Born in Flames went on to win Turning the Pages Book of the Year award in February of 2013. In January of 2014, the last book in the trilogy, From the Embers, was released, thusly completing the trilogy. She now works on the Night Watchmen Series, while guzzling Red Bulls and pretending to be a ninja on Heelys.  
Books By Candace Knoebel
The Night Watchmen Series:
Everdeep (Night Watchmen, #4) Coming Winter 2015
The Born in Flames Trilogy:

Wednesday, June 3, 2015

Carlyle


A darker offering from award winning YA author 

Carlyle Labuschagne 


In a recent TV interview Carlyle was given the opportunity to answer some tough questions about why she felt she needed to go darker in this novel and what will the reader take away from that. Then  she gets emotional on the mention of her recent UtopYAcon nominations where the awards will be celebrated in Nashville June 20 2015










Title: Evanescent
Author: Carlyle Labuschagne
Series: The Broken Series #2
Publisher: Fire Quill Publishing
Release Date: 19th May 2015
ISBN: 978-0-9922446-4-4  
Back Blurb:
Her fall has just begun. Only his touch can save her from the shift that could destroy it all. 

Within my blood runs a thing our kind calls the Shadowing Disease. It shadows over, and bends everything to its will. 
When the first blood-shift came, it tore through flesh and blood, threatening to bend me, break bone, shatter my mind and entrap my heart with its honeyed, seductive poison. It came with vicious intent, moving my thoughts and altering me forever. 
The shift has caused a rift within me. No one was safe when it entrapped me in its claws of foul lust. But I have the only antidote against the evil that becomes me - his touch alone has the power to release the spurs of sweet darkness that clung on for deal life. 
I knew what I had to do; the desperation pulled my mind with the deep determination of a hungry predator. 
By the time the revelation raised me from the dark dungeon of my bounds - it might have been too late.

PURCHASE THE NOVEL








ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Carlyle is an South African award winning author, with a flair for mixing genres and adding loads of drama to every story she creates. For now she is happy to take over the world and convert non Sci-fi believers.
Her goal as an author is to touch people's lives, and help others love their differences and one another by delivering strong messages of faith, love and hope within every outrageous world she writes about.

"I love to swim, fight for the trees, and am a food lover who is driven by my passion for life. I dream that one day my stories will change the lives of countless teenagers and have them obsess over the world literacy can offer them instead of worrying about fitting in. Never sacrifice who you are, it’s in the dark times that the light comes to life."

Carlyle used writing as a healing tool and that is why she started her very own writers support event - SAIR bookfestival.

 "To be a helping hand for those who strive to become full times writers, editors, bloggers, readers and cover artists - it’s a crazy world out there you don’t have to go it alone!"

AUTHOR LINKS

Blog
Facebook Page
LinkedIn
Twitter
Website
Google +
Fire Quill Publishing







Much love "Dont be crippled by fear, let love give you wings" Carlyle Labuschagne Website. Twitter. facebook. .Goodreads Amazon. Out now!

Tuesday, June 2, 2015



"Taken by My Bad Boy Stepbrother" Part 1
is now available for $0.99 or free on Kindle Unlimited.

http://www.amazon.com/Taken-Stepbrother-Part-Taboo-Romance-ebook/dp/B00YQAKBRM

I had just started my senior year and was counting down the days until I turned eighteen. Graduation would follow shortly after. I couldn't wait to get away from my mom and her sleazy ways. She couldn't stay with a man for more than a few months. We moved from place to place, and it drove me crazy. The only thing she taught me was how to furnish an apartment for almost nothing. I only asked one thing of her.

"Don't date anyone associated with my school."

I usually kept to myself in school. There was no reason to make friends. I liked to spend my time in my room on my computer or at the park taking pictures. Pity wasn't something I wanted from the people around me. I didn't have what most kids in school had. It was easier to move when you only had a few boxes to pack.

There was a message on my computer when I got home from school one day. It was from a guy who had seen me on a photography post. We were both seniors but knew nothing about each other or where we lived. I agreed to let him call me if we were still talking on my birthday. There was no way that was going to happen.

There was a guy in one of my classes that was a total jerk. He didn't care what anyone thought about him. His name was Ethan. He was definitely nice to look at with his whole bad boy attitude, but the bad outweighed the good. I couldn't believe he was in my advanced class. Not everyone was as they seemed though. Everything was quiet until I opened my big mouth and pissed him off. It was definitely the biggest mistake I had made in a long time.

Sunday, May 31, 2015

Kirsty Bromberg sweet ache


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Meet Hawke & Quinlan in SWEET ACHE - the newest Rock Star stand-alone in the Driven Series by K. Bromberg! 
NOW AVAILABLE
Mass Market Paperback: http://amzn.to/1JasNdz
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Blurb
The New York Times bestselling author of Slow Burn turns up the heat when a sexy bet turns into so much more....
Hawkin Play, the bad boy rock star with a good guy heart, has lived a lifetime of cleaning up after his twin brother’s mistakes. Hunter’s most recent screwup could land Hawke in jail and risk the band’s future. Hawke agrees to guest lecture at a local college to stay in the judge’s good graces—and a bet with his bandmate to seduce his sexy teaching assistant is icing on the cake.
Quinlan Westin is harder to bed than Hawke imagined. She knows his type and is determined to avoid the rocker at all costs—even if their attraction runs deeper than simple lust.
Just as Hawke might finally be winning over the girl, his brother has other plans. When Hunter realizes his twin finally has a weakness, he’ll stop at nothing to take advantage....
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PLEASE CHOOSE ONE EXCERPT FOR YOUR SCHEDULED DAY
EXCERPT #1
Quinlan
“Now you guys need to get going so you have time for Quin to give you the complete rundown,” Professor Stevens says.
Of course she has no idea the double entendre she’s just given Hawkin about me giving him a complete rundown, but I know Hawke catches it. I manage to resist the urge to stomp my feet in frustration and storm out of her office like a toddler. Instead I give her a tight smile before turning and walking out of the office and then the department.
I stand there in the sunshine, waiting for him to get his ass in gear and quit wasting my time. When I finally hear the door open I just start walking and the sound of his boots is the only inclination that he’s following.
“I’ve got longer legs than you Trixie,” he chides from a few feet back. “But feel free to keep swinging your hips like that, and I’ll stay right here behind you and enjoy the show.”
I bristle at the comment. At the moment there’s no authority to be respectful of, no damage that can’t be undone.
“A show?” The pitch of my voice escalates as I whirl around to face him—sunglasses on, hair disheveled, and I wish I hadn’t turned around because damn, he’s just that devastatingly fine. I’m quiet for a beat as we both appraise each other from behind darkened lenses. His dark hair, tanned skin, and cocky smirk pulls at those parts of me I don’t want to be pulled. “You want to talk about a show.” I grit the words out, trying to push my physical attraction to him from my mind. “Let’s talk about your little performance for Dr. Stevens.”
“I know. I’m good, huh? Sorry but a man’s got to do what he’s got to do . . . Besides, I wasn’t done with you yet.”
My mouth falls lax and I’m momentarily flabbergasted. “Done with me yet?” I sputter the words when I’ve recovered my wits at his arrogance run amuck . . . But I can’t deny the little flutter in my belly at his comment. There’s just something about him aside from the whole I’m a rock-star thing, that makes me desire him in a way I can’t put into words.
“Yep.” He says casually as he unwraps a Starburst and pops it into his mouth. And I hate that I’m fascinated with watching his mouth suck on the sweet candy. Luckily he speaks so I can distract myself from the captivating sight. “I’m pretty sure you have a usefulness . . . I’m just trying to figure out what that is.” He licks his lips. “Well, besides the obvious, that is . . .” Smirk is handily in place and I hate that ache starting to simmer in my core.
“Why don’t you go suck a—”
“Relax,” he says, angling his head to the side and emitting a laugh as he steps closer to me. “I’m just teasing you. You’re so damn easy to rile up and so hard to resist. Plus you’re even hotter when you’re pissed. I like it.” He shrugs an apology, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jeans with a sheepish grin that softens all those hard edges and makes me sigh with the contrast of characteristics. He holds a red Starburst out to me as a peace offering. “C’mon, you know you want to be the star to my burst.”
We’ve stopped, my hands are on my hips, and the sun is falls around us as hewaits for me to react to his innocent little comment. Deep down I know I’m screwed. I feel an urge to smile but immediately realign my defenses. The contradiction he presents, the smooth with the rough, is the one thing that I always fall for when it comes to men.
And I’m not going to fall for Hawkin Play.
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EXCERPT #2
Hawkin
Well, shit. Guess there’s not going to be any calm before the next storm. I look at my brother and sigh.
I hit the road, drive for what feels like hours. I don’t know where I’m going or what I’m looking to find, but as long as I keep moving, my past can’t catch up to me.
At least it’s a good idea in theory because I can’t outrun this shit. The stuff I want to and the stuff I don’t want to.
I end up the one place I used to go to be alone, to think, and as I stare at the Hollywood sign from my seat on the grass at the Griffith Park Observatory, I love the feeling that I’m this little person in this big world. The idea comforts me some. The notion that on the grand scale of things my problems are minute. Someone out there has it way worse.
And no one expects a rock star to be here so with my hat pulled low on my head, I’m able to disappear.
I stare down below to the city where as a little boy, scared and traumatized, I wondered how all of the dreams inside my head could ever see the light of day when I felt like I had the responsibility of the world on my small shoulders. But I did. And I made it.
So why do I feel like I’m still not enough? For my brother? To make my mother better? For Quinlan to even want me beyond the killer sex we have? For the fans who scream and sing my lyrics like they live them when they have no fucking clue the meaning behind the words?
I scrub my hands over my face, needing a drink, craving an ice cream cone, and wanting the feeling of Quinlan’s arms wrapped around me as she silently sits there and just is with me.
My mind veers to Hunter. I push the guilt away, hold on to my gut check rationalization that he deserved it, and realize that’s the trouble I’m having here. Going with my gut versus going with the bullshit promises I’ve lived by forever.
My stomach churns and my head feels like Gizmo’s banging the hell out of it with his sticks. I shove up off the grass, needing to get the fuck out of here, my heart and head in conflict and for the first time in forever I dare to think what could happen if my heart finally won for once.
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 EXCERPT #3
Hawkin
I keep my eyes fixed on the freeway in front of me as I let the comment resonate, knowing it’s truth despite the constant tumult that burdens me. A part of me sags in relief at her observation, knowing that someone else sees the cracks in my resolve while the other part of me begins to question again.
And the scary thing about questions are they usually result in a revolution of some sort. I’m just not sure if I can withstand an overhaul of principles without it resulting in casualties.
“Am I the reason he’s like this Q? How did this person I’ve been with since conception . . . how can we experience the same tragedy but be so completely different? Did I try too hard, protect him too much, throw him to the wolves when I shouldn’t have and end up proving I’m just like Dad?” I speak the questions floating around in my mind aloud, throw them out there even though I know there’s no way in hell she has the answers.
She does nothing more than reach over and lace her fingers with mine, staying silent, but her unconditional support is deafening. Except even with someone beside you, the quiet has a way of smothering you when you’re left alone with just your thoughts. And of course mine turns to where we are headed right now.
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EXCERPT #4
Quinlan
 I walk toward him, the sight of him slightly unkempt with a carefree smile he hasn’t possessed for days calls to my libido on so many levels it’s ridiculous. He brings a shot of something to his mouth and I don’t even give a second thought to what it is because I know I’ll taste it on my lips momentarily.
He hums deep in his throat when I step up into his body and there is something so inherently sexy about the sound—knowing that I caused that reaction—that together with the feel of his firm body against mine lets me know there will be no interruptions this time.
He looks at me, eyes darkening and one hand sliding beneath my shirt a beat before our lips meet in a hungry, no-holds-barred kiss. His empty bottle clatters on the counter behind him so that his other hand can join in the temptation. I lose myself in the taste of the tequila on his tongue, and the hypnotizing feeling of his hands on my body.
The music thumps hard around us, the noise buzzes, and the faint scent of cigarette smoke wafts in from outside but it’s as if none of it hits me because I’m consumed by everything about him: his taste, his cologne, the groan I can’t hear but can feel against our connected chests, the heat of his body. I don’t care who’s watching because it’s almost as if the overwhelming emotions that he’s experienced all week long are manifesting themselves into our mutual desperation.
“Upstairs. Now,” he murmurs against my lips, and I’ve never heard more perfect words. He grasps the bottle of tequila behind him in one hand and my hand in the other without saying anything further and walks with purpose through the crowd. I can’t see his face but he must have a determined look on it because not one person stops him to talk when that’s been the norm for the evening thus far. At the bottom of the stairs, I catch the eyes of the three wannabe women and just smirk. Call me bitchy, but I can’t help it, I’m with the one they were hoping to land tonight.
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About the Author:
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New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author K. Bromberg is that reserved woman sitting in the corner who has you all fooled about the wild child inside of her—the one she lets out every time her fingertips touch the computer keyboard. 
K. lives in Southern California with her husband and three children. When she needs a break from the daily chaos of her life, you can most likely find her on the treadmill or with Kindle in hand, devouring the pages of a good, saucy book.
On a whim, K. Bromberg decided to try her hand at this writing thing. Her debut novels, Driven, Fueled, and Crashed of The Driven Trilogy were well received and went on to become multi-platform bestsellers as well as landing on the New York Times and USA Today lists. Her other works include a short story, UnRaveled, and a companion piece to The Driven Trilogy titled Raced. She is currently working on three stand alone Driven novels, Slow Burn, Sweet Ache, and Hard Beat. She also plans to release a novel addressing the 10 year gap at the ending of Crashed in late fall 2015
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