To Steal A Highlander's Heart

TO STEAL A HIGHLANDER'S HEART

By

Samantha Holt

BLURB:  

Alana sets eyes on Morgann for the first time in several years and what does he do? He captures her! But Alana refuses to go meekly with the sexy Highland warrior. Her kidnapping will reignite the rift that’s existed between the two clans since her father accused Morgann of theft and she doesn’t want to see her father harmed in the inevitable war that will ensue.

Unfortunately for Alana, the faeries seek to interfere with her plans to escape. The sidhe have a debt to repay and Tèile, the green faery, is determined to mend the rift between the clans for good. And that means ensuring Alana and Morgann marry.

Morgann has his own reasons for taking Alana and they are nothing to do with marriage or war. He wants to use her to reveal a secret from the past, the one that had him accused of theft. If only he didn’t find his childhood friend so attractive. When circumstances force them together, Alana’s life is threatened and war is imminent. Can Morgann reveal the truth without losing Alana? And will the faeries meddling help or hinder his cause?

 Excerpt 2

“‘Tis something I have to do. I cannae explain my motives but ‘tis nae for something as petty as revenge, I promise ye.”

Shaking her head, she inched closer. “I donnae see why ye cannae explain. Ye used to tell me everything, remember?”

 “Not everything.”

Hand thrust out, he pressed it to her shoulder in an attempt to hold her back. She could hardly think when she got closer but the heat of his body seemed to suck her in. They were speaking in riddles. Dancing around one another. Both trying to understand what the other wanted. She’d intended to manipulate him. To bargain her freedom, yet somewhere along the line the past had caught up with her and the burning desire to understand what had happened all those years ago snared her.

And then another kind of desire swept her up.

Alana curled her fingers around his wrist and drew his hand away from her shoulder. She glanced down at his arm and paused. Bringing her other hand up, she gently rolled up his sleeve, fingertips skimming over his skin.

“What did ye not tell me then?”

His throat worked as he swallowed and Morgann shook his head. “I’d hardly tell ye now.”

“Ye are a stubborn man, Morgann MacRae.” Her fingers settled on the scar on his arm, tracing the shape of it—a brand in the shape of a dagger tip. She winced as she considered the pain he must have felt.

AUTHOR INFORMATION:

Samantha resides in Warwickshire, England with her twin girls and husband. She's a romance addict and has been devouring all kinds of romance for as long as she can remember.

Having studied archaeology, Samantha likes to blend her love of the past with her passion for romance to create thrilling and passionate tales set to medieval backdrops. She thinks there's nothing sexier than a rugged warrior and a feisty maiden falling head over heels for each other.

Website/Blog – www.samanthaholt.org.uk

Facebook – http://www.facebook.com/romanticfiction

Amazon page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B008FKHIXY

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Cover of Darkness Virtual Book Tour

COVER OF DARKNESS

By

Gregory Delaurentis

BLURB:  

A high profile murder of a Wall Street executive in Westchester pits three people against the criminal underbelly of Manhattan nightlife. The key players are two ex-cops turned private investigators—Kevin Whitehouse, whose sharpest tool is his keen analytical mind, and David Allerton, a former Special Forces operative—and Margaret Alexander, Kevin’s lover. In their search for a killer, they are forced to travel to the edge of sanity and morality, while stumbling onto their own confusing secrets as well. The Cover of Darkness is a gritty noir saga that untangles a web of deceit in the course of tracking down a brutal murderer.

EXCERPT 3

David first opened the door to a closet on the left, searching it with the gun muzzle, before approaching the door at the end of the hall and kicking it open. An angry, naked man stood on the other side, his anger changing to fear in seconds once he beheld the gun pointing in his direction.

“Get back into bed,” David ordered.

The pale-bodied man responded as he staggered backward. The foot of the bed struck the back of his knees, sending him seated on the mattress. The woman on the bed had by this time covered herself with the sheets, and curled her legs up.

While Kevin stood nervously in the doorway, David searched the room and the closets, the muzzle of the shotgun again serving as a probe, but found no one.

“What the…?” Chase asked David.

After searching through the room, David tossed the shotgun to Kevin.

Suddenly, Chase went white-hot heat, crawling backward into the arms of his woman in sheer panic screaming, “What do you want?!”

“I want information,” David demanded, going to the foot of the bed, standing before them with Kevin directly behind him. “I want to know who whacked Osterman.”

“How am I to know?!” Chase shouted back. His hair was a wild tangle, his eyes wide as saucers with fright.

“Don’t yell at me,” David said calmly. “I want answers. I’m not interested in killing you.”

“You bust into my crib and start throwing guns around. You’re crazy, man, what do you think I’m thinking?”

“You were moving dope for Osterman,” David persisted, ignoring Chase’s remarks.

“Osterman! He jerked me.”

“With the Colombians.”

“Damn right.”

“And you didn’t like that.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“So, you had one of your soul brothers do him in.”

“Oh hell, no. My people don’t kill. We don’t mess with weapons like you do.”

“And the reason for that?”

“More jail time . . . What are you? A cop?”

“Don’t worry about what I am,” David growled back. “You are moving weight. I want to know what happened after Osterman jerked you.”

“He jerked me. That’s all.”

“That’s all? You didn’t go to the Colombians? Liar!”

“Yes, yes, I did that!” Chase corrected. “I went to the Colombians as soon as I knew he jerked me. I begged them to give me another chance. They said they would, if I replaced their one hundred kilos. One hundred kilos! How do I do that?”

“Put bullets into Osterman for revenge.”

“How is that going to get me my one hundred kilos?”

“Let me explain it to you, genius. The Colombians trust Osterman enough to give him a heavy shipment. You find it, whack him, and take his shipment back to the Colombians. Paid in full.”

Chase thought that over for a second or two. “But that’s not what happened.”

“Convince me otherwise.”

The word “Freeze!” were suddenly heard from the doorway. David frowned as he glanced over his shoulder to see a scruffy looking black male, armed with his own shotgun.

AUTHOR INFORMATION:

Gregory Delaurentis spent his adult life roaming from job to job, working for Lockheed in California, various law firms in New York, and financial firms on Wall Street. Throughout this period of time, he was writing—unceasingly—finally producing a large body of work, albeit unrecognized and unpublished . . . until now. Cover of Darkness is the first in a series of upcoming books that include Edge of Darkness, Pale of Darkness and Cries of Darkness. These novels follow the lives of three individuals who do battle bringing criminals to justice, while they struggle to understand the complex relationships that exist among themselves. This intriguing trio has absorbed the attention of Mr. Delaurentis for the past year and a half, so much so he decided to self-publish their stories to bring them to a wider audience. [AUTHOR’S DISCLAIMER: These are works of fiction. Name, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.]

LINKS

Vendor links

1) AMAZON  http://www.amazon.com/Cover-Darkness-1-Gregory-Delaurentis/dp/0989185702/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1365639244&sr=1-1&keywords=cover+of+darkness+gregory+delaurentis
2) KOBO  http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/Cover-of-Darkness/book-SydhWnuMdEGT2jO97s6rDA/page1.html?s=znZMkhZzw0yjFAMp-WIkpQ&r=1
3) BARNES & NOBLE http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/cover-of-darkness-gregory-delaurentis/1115107265?ean=9780989185707
4) SONY READER STORE https://ebookstore.sony.com/search?keyword=Gregory+Delaurentis
5) SMASHWORDS  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/304457

General links

1)  http://www.darknessnovels.com/

2) https://www.facebook.com/pages/Cover-of-Darkness/435819953132527

3) https://twitter.com/cupgrease

4) http://gregorydelaurentis.blogspot.com/

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Weak at the Knees Book Blast #GFWeakatknees

WEAK AT THE KNEES

By

Jo Kessel

BLURB:  

“We got so busy living life that we forgot to live our dreams.”

Danni Lewis has been playing it safe for twenty-six years, but her sheltered existence is making her feel old ahead of time. When a sudden death plunges her into a spiral of grief, she throws caution to the wind and runs away to France in search of a new beginning.

The moment ski instructor Olivier du Pape enters her shattered world she falls hard, in more ways than one.

Their mutual desire is as powerful and seductive as the mountains around them. His dark gypsy looks and piercing blue eyes are irresistible.

Only she must resist, because he has a wife – and she’d made a pact to never get involved with a married man.

But how do you choose between keeping your word and being true to your soul?

Weak at the Knees is Jo’s debut novel in the new adult, contemporary romance genre – a story about love, loss and relationships, set between London and the heart of the French Alps.

US buy link: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00E4VC70W

UK buy link: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00E4VC70W

EXCERPT FOUR

I tilt my head into his hand as he strokes my left cheek. He brings his lips in to meet mine and our eyes close. We seal our adulterous pact with a slow, slightly trembling, pressing kiss. When we pull away we smile, then hug standing, bodies tight and swaying, squeezing the breath out of each other.

He prods me playfully, steering me in the direction of my bedroom. When we get there he stands really close, running his hands up and down my arms, then holding my waist and consuming me with his gaze as he pushes me down onto the bed so that I land with him lying on top of me. I love the way his long black eyelashes curl at the ends, flickering. The way his nostrils flare ever so slightly when he inhales. The way his black mop flops forward, giving him a boyish look. We start kissing deeper and more urgently, gliding hands over each others’ bodies, one by one discarding each item of clothing, tossing them carelessly in the air, until we’re lying there completely naked, his flesh on mine. My body is one big tingle. No sooner than his hands gently glide over one part of my frame, my left breast, my right breast, my stomach, in between my legs, than the whole rest of me aches to be touched and not left out. His body is perfect, in its natural, lithe, muscular toning and in the texture of his skin, smooth and soft. His body is perfect in the way it fits on top of mine, meets mine and complements mine. I love feeling him, touching him, watching his eyes close dreamily when I stroke his back or kiss his neck. We take our time, everything in slow motion, taking pleasure in the contours of each others’ bodies.

AUTHOR INFORMATION:

When Jo was ten years old she wrote a short story about losing a loved one. Her mother and big sister were so moved by the tale that it made them cry. Having reduced them to tears she vowed that the next time she wrote a story it would make them smile instead. Happily she succeeded and with this success grew an addiction for wanting to reach out and touch people with words. Jo lives in London with her husband and three children where she works as a TV and print journalist. She tells life stories and can often be found travelling the globe researching the next big holiday hotspots for readers to enjoy. Since becoming a mother anything even remotely sad makes her cry. She’s a sucker for a good romance and tear-jerker movies are the worst. She’s that woman in the cinema, struggling to muffle audible wails as everyone else turns round to stare.

P.S Jo’s pretty certain one of her daughters has inherited this gene.          

http://www.jokessel.com/

Amazon Buy Link: http://www.amazon.com/Weak-at-Knees-Jo-Kessel/dp/1490397604/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1376257130&sr=8-1&keywords=weak+at+the+knees+jo+kessel

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A Little Bit Scandalous Blog Tour

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Cross the Ocean by Holly Bush: The Virtual Book Tour

CROSS THE OCEAN

By

Holly Bush

BLURB:  

1871 . . . Worlds collide when American Suffragette, Gertrude Finch, and titled Brit Blake Sanders meet in an explosive encounter that may forever bind them together. Gertrude Finch escorts a young relative to London and encounters the stuffy Duke of Wexford at his worst. Cross the Ocean is the story of an undesired, yet undeniable attraction that takes Blake and Gertrude across an ocean and into each other’s arms.

Excerpt Three

Blake found his guests in the music room listening to Melinda play the pianoforte. “Miss Finch, may I beg a moment of your time?” he asked as he touched her elbow.

The two of them retreated out of hearing distance from the rest.

“Yes?” Miss Finch clipped off and folded her hands at her waist.

“I find I do owe you an apology,” Blake began.

“And every other woman in the room as well,” she replied.

“I am not concerned with every other female in the room.” Blake stood tall. “I have many faults, but hurting a guest’s feelings cannot be one of them.”

“I agree with you there,” Miss Finch said and clapped politely.

“Agree with what?” he asked.

“You have many faults. The least of which are poor manners.”

“Yes, well, in any case, I apologize for what I said.” Blake looked away ashamed. “I was wrong. You are really quite attractive.”

Gertrude Finch put her hands on her hips, and her voice rose with each word. “I could care less what you think of me.”

“Now, now, no need to call attention our way,” Blake said and glanced at the assembly listening to Melinda. “No need to be defensive, either. I am aware of the tender sensibilities women associate with how attractive they are. My own mother made us all kiss and coo over Aunt Constance, and she had whiskers longer than . . .”

“Listen to me, Sanders. I meant what I said. I couldn’t care less whether you think I’m attractive or not. You dismiss ideas and brains for the lack of a pretty face. I think you’re a pompous idiot. What do you think of them apples, Your Highness?” she said.

Blake held his hands behind his back, and a muscle twitched below his eye. “Miss Finch, the title ‘Your Highness’ is reserved for the royal family. You Americans bandy about titles as if a one of you could trace a history further back than the last mule you shoed.”

Guest Post:

1.       Romance ‘musts’

I’m a big fan of Regency and Victorian romances, and there are some universal things about all of the really good ones that make for the most memorable historical romances. First, somebody has to have some serious money. While intellectually, I know that Regency and Victorian England had squalor and poverty, and that common folk had their own hopes and dreams and success and failures. Call me shallow but I like the gowns and the jewels and the balls. I want to read about beautiful dresses and sculptured lawns and fast, sleek horses when I’m reading a British historical romance. This isn’t necessarily true when I’m reading historical romances set in the US, in fact, some of my favorites and my own, are about everyday people.

Second, and I’m doing these in no particular order, there has to be enough historical detail to convince me that what was happening in the story was real or could have been real. In my novel, Cross the Ocean, the Duchess of Wexford leaves her husband, the Duke – I thought long and hard about whether it would seem possible to readers and if I could make it plausible. I did some research and found that while not usual, it did occur both in Regency and Victorian times. I read about some deliciously true scandals about this exact thing.

Third, give me some passion, some spark between the hero and heroine. Give me a reason that they will fight their way through all the roadblocks put in front of them. Give me some witty dialogue, tender moments and real challenges to them being together. If there are going to be sex scenes make them part of the natural progression of their relationship. And make them hot.

Fourth and finally, give me some interesting and entertaining secondary characters. I expect my Regency and Victorian reads to have a large cast of characters inter-woven with the hero and heroine. Most times it’s family, but often it’s the larger social milieu I expect from that time period. After all, how can I have a novel of ‘manners’ if there is no one to be mannerly with or to?

AUTHOR INFORMATION:

Holly Bush was born in western Pennsylvania to two avid readers. There was not a room in her home that did not hold a full bookcase. She worked in the hospitality industry, owning a restaurant for twenty years and recently worked as the sales and marketing director in the hospitality/tourism industry and is credited with building traffic to capacity for a local farm tour, bringing guests from twenty-two states, booked two years out.  Holly has been a marketing consultant to start-up businesses and has done public speaking on the subject.

Holly has been writing all of her life and is a voracious reader of a wide variety of fiction and non-fiction, particularly political and historical works. She has written four romance novels, all set in the U.S. West in the mid 1800’s. She frequently attends writing conferences, and has always been a member of a writer’s group.

Holly is a gardener, a news junkie, has been an active member of her local library board and loves to spend time near the ocean. She is the proud mother of two daughters and the wife of a man more than a few years her junior.

@hollybushbooks

www.hollybushbooks.com

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Holly-Bush/247399131941435

Amazon:

http://www.amazon.com/Cross-the-Ocean-ebook/dp/B00D381HR6/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1369907100&sr=1-1&keywords=Cross+the+ocean

Itunes:

https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/cross-the-ocean/id655238415?mt=11

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