Blog Tour: Out of Time by Shona Husk

I was really excited to work with Shona and a quick look at her published titles will show you why! You’ll find something to read for any mood *grin*. She’s also a really lovely author and I know that you will all enjoy getting to know her just as much as I did… so without further ado…



Shona Husk lives in Western Australia at the edge of the Indian Ocean. Blessed with a lively imagination she spent most of her childhood making up stories. As an adult she discovered romance novels and hasn’t looked back.

With over forty published stories, ranging from sensual to scorching, she writes contemporary, paranormal, fantasy and sci-fi romance. Her latest release is Out of Time, a Fremantle set rock star story.

You can find out more at



Out of Time Blog Tour

18 Sept – Coffee Time Romance
22 Sept – Romance Reviews Today
23 Sept – Pamaceeve
24 Sept – Indy Book Fairy
24 Sept – Savvy Authors
24 Sept – Nat’s Book Nook
24 Sept – Night Owl Reviews
25 Sept – Romance Junkies
25 Sept – Room with Books
26 Sept – Books & More
28 Sept – Book Girl Knitting
30 Sept – Lynn Stevens


Blurb Skinny

Out of Time by Shona Husk CoverThe fabulous New Adult series from Shona Husk continues: he wants to shut out the world; she wants to invite it in…

Mike Peterson has learned the hard way that the good really do die young. He and his mum only have each other, and now she’s losing her second battle with cancer. He wants to stay with her; she wants him to keep following his dreams. He doesn’t have long to decide and the rest of the band is waiting on him. Whatever choice he makes, he will lose.

Living at home has become impossible for Ava Brand. Her very religious, very traditional grandmother would like to see her married off to a nice Indian boy. But Ava wants to make her own choices. Meeting Mike gives her a chance to rebel.

What starts off as easy rapidly becomes complicated, as their problems expand and emotions bubble to the surface. Neither has time for complicated, as Ava’s family discovers her extra-curricular activities and Mike has to make incredibly hard choices. But love never waits for the perfect time, and Mike and Ava are going to have to decide if they’re playing for fun, or playing for keeps.

Escape Publishing     iTunes     Amazon


Excerpt skinny
‘I don’t know why I texted you.’ Her lips curved into a small smile before she pinched her lower lip between her teeth, as if to stop it from spreading. ‘I just wanted to get out and thought that if you were close by …’

‘And here I am.’ This wasn’t awkward at all. What were they doing?

She nodded and her gaze skimmed over him. ‘And here you are.’ She took a step closer.

He could reach out and touch her, yet he didn’t. He hadn’t been this hesitant in a very long time. But Ava wasn’t some random chick whose name he didn’t know or couldn’t remember. Her name was etched inside his skull. ‘Did you want to go for a walk?’

‘Why not.’ She flicked him another little smile.

Why not indeed, he wasn’t sure what else they were going to do. This was outside their usual activities. They walked down the road a bit toward the foreshore. He was aware of her arm when it brushed his. And while they had sat close after a ride, this felt different.

How different did he want it?

He wasn’t sure. He liked what they had and that they could talk and there were no complications. But his fingers brushed her hand and then her fingers were linking with his and then they were holding hands before they reached the grassed foreshore.

Around them people moved, walking from wherever they’d parked their car or jumped off the bus. She wouldn’t want to be down here when the show started, not when she could be watching from her balcony with her friends, plus they’d wonder where she was. He glanced back up the road toward the hotel.

‘Guess I should go back.’ She didn’t sound entirely convinced.

‘I’ll walk you.’ He didn’t care if he missed the whole thing. They went back the way they’d come.

They were almost there when she stopped. In that heartbeat, he knew this was about to get complicated and he wasn’t going to do a damn thing to stop it. He’d wanted her the first time he’d seen her. The heat of the evening was on his skin and her touch was under his skin.

If she invited him up, he’d follow.

Fuck. He had no condoms.

Maybe she did … but the thought brought him up short. He liked her. He didn’t just want to sleep with her. If he did that, then what happened next? Did they go back to just being friends … is that what had been happening, or had she wanted more from the start?

It was complicated already. He’d been pretending otherwise because Ava was a very pretty distraction.

A quick screw never brought this headache, neither had making love with a girlfriend. He wasn’t sure he remembered how to do that. It had been too long.

She looked up at him and stepped closer. ‘I remembered why I texted you.’

‘Uh-huh.’ He’d kind of got that. He was sure his heart was about to self-destruct in a frenzy of lust and anticipation.

He put his hand on her waist. He knew she was all lithe muscle. Her riding gear had given him plenty to think about in the shower. She probably wouldn’t find that flattering. After giving her a moment to pull away—she didn’t—he drew her a fraction closer.

Neither of them moved. Her lips were tilted up, and her fingers were locked around his. He drew in a breath. If he crossed the line, he wouldn’t be able to uncross it. He didn’t need this. His life was a mess that he couldn’t afford to screw up further. His dick pulsed. It had only been a month, not even a full month. It wasn’t going to drop off if it didn’t get used.

‘Kiss me,’ she whispered.

Any resistance he’d had was shattered by those two words. He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers. All other thoughts melting away.

She wanted him and he needed her. But he didn’t rush the kiss and neither did she. It slowly deepened from first kiss to more. Her free hand slid over his chest to land on his shoulder. He closed the last few centimetres between them.

Still she didn’t pull away.

There were too many people around to do more here. But he moved against her, leaving no doubt about what he was thinking. She gasped then swayed her hips.

He wanted to pick her up and have her against the nearest wall—which had been his first thought the first time he’d seen her. Her hotel was only metres away. He was pathetic, drawing boundaries, only to ignore them when he changed his mind.

Her tongue found his ring. Then her teeth gave it a gentle tug. She gave a little laugh as he growled.

‘You like that one?’

‘Mmm. Do you have any more?’

No, he didn’t, and this is where things usually took a dive. But he wasn’t drunk and neither was she. And they weren’t strangers. But he didn’t want to give up all his secrets too soon. ‘Maybe, maybe not.’

She was still pressed against him. Her body moulding to his. She reached up and took another kiss. ‘Guess I’ll have to wait to find out.’

Her fingers slid free from his and then she was drifting out of reach. She took a couple more steps back, her eyes still on him.

He covered the distance in a few quick strides. Kissed her again. Harder this time; then drew back, knowing there wasn’t going to be anymore tonight. It was better this way. No sex to make a mess of things. It was fairly obvious that it was on both their minds. ‘Enjoy the fireworks.’

The Scandalous Proposal of Lord Bennet by Raven McAllan

I’ve long been a fan of the delightful Raven McAllan and celebrated when she was signed by Carina.  Naturally, when she mentioned that she would love to promote her new release, I couldn’t wait to get my hands on her guest post! I hope that you will fall as much in love with her and her books as I have!  Raven… over to you…


RavenHi everyone. It’s great to be here and talking about my latest book, The Scandalous Proposal of Lord Bennett.

It’s my debut novel with Carina, out on 22nd of September on Amazon and Kobo, and up for pre-order before then. I’m more than a little excited. As every publishing house works in different ways, it’s been a steep, and thrilling learning curve. I’m enjoying every second of it.

I fell into writing Regency romance almost by accident. I’ve always been fascinated by that era, by the undercurrents and the secrets that filled the ton and the way people behaved, and decided I’d like to see if I could put some of the machinations and romance into words.

Let’s hope I’ve succeeded.

Raven x


12027722_866271960135590_8149454911794029459_nTo have and to hold?

Reluctant debutante Lady Clarissa Macpherson has never forgotten the forbidden kiss she shared with notorious rake, Lord Theodore ‘Ben’ Bennett, all those years ago. Even now, he’s the one man who sets Clarissa’s pulse racing and her skin tingling – no matter how hard she tries to ignore it!

Yet, when Ben rescues her from the unwanted advances of a drunken Lord at a society ball, she finds herself in a most scandalous predicament – engaged, to the most eligible bachelor in London!

Wedded? It appears so, but bedded? Clarissa demands more from her marriage than simply surrendering to her new husband’s sexual desires, especially when she realises she’s falling deeper in love with him every single day. Ben must prove that she’s the only woman for him – and surrender his heart!

Yet resisting her new husband’s delicious seduction may prove the hardest thing Clarissa has ever done…      iTunes      Kobo


A wee tease…

‘All the gardens were my mama’s favourites when she was alive.’ Stupid. After all, how could they be if she were dead? ‘She would have said exactly the same with regard to the staff. I’ll make a note to let them know.’ He experienced the usual sharp pang of loss that hit him whenever he thought of his long-gone mama. She had passed when he was at Eton, and Ben still experienced the loss, as if it were the day before. ‘I feel they may be neglected somewhat. I’m sure she – I – would be happy for your input.’

Her sigh stirred the hairs on his neck.

‘You don’t like the idea?’ He’d thought she’d be pleased. Truly the way a woman’s mind worked could be a mystery. For one fleeting moment Ben had a vision of his last mistress. Her mind worked in one way only – calculating what was in it for her. He had parted company with the fair lady when her demands began to be inappropriate. Right from the start he’d told her it was a temporary liaison and, whatever she’d thought, he’d had no intention of altering the status quo. And now he was married? Ben had an uneasy feeling life might not be the same, even though he thought he and his wife had come to an understanding.

‘The gardens?’ he prompted Clarissa when it seemed she wasn’t going to answer.

‘Oh yes, the gardens. Perhaps.’ Her offhand, indifferent tone of voice irritated him. The knock on the door came as a welcome relief. Ben was out of his depth, and he didn’t like the sensation.

He liked the news even less.

‘What do you mean, some idiot’s driven into my coach?’ He roared the words, and blinked rapidly, as if the gesture would change the declaration uttered by the harried footman in front of him. ‘How the hades did you let that happen?’

Clarissa placed her hand on Ben’s arm. How he stopped himself from shaking it off, he had no idea. He glanced at her impatiently. She stood her ground and returned his perusal.

‘My lord, have you never heard the expression do not shoot the messenger? Scraptoft here is only relaying what’s happened. He is neither responsible for it, nor able to alter the chain of events. He’s told you about the accident, and you need to go and see for yourself what’s to be done.’

The footman flashed a grateful glance in her direction and Ben gritted his teeth. She was right, of course, but he didn’t like to be reminded of it in such a fashion.

‘Of course, my dear, you are, as ever, correct.’ He cursed the defensive tone.

‘I accept your apologies and acknowledgement, my lord.’ The words and intonation were dulcet, the look in her eyes not so. ‘I will arrange for our food to be delayed until your return.’

Ben nodded curtly. ‘Thank you.My apologies, Scraptoft. It is, of course, not your doing. Forgive me – I was somewhat perturbed.’ He gestured to the man to precede him, and turned back to his wife once the other man had left the room.

‘I trust you can entertain yourself while I’m away?’

Her eyes filled with mischief, and he could have sworn she choked back a laugh.

‘Of course, sir. I have a book.’

We Host: Covet by Tina Traverse

Hiding in an isolated Newfoundland
outport, Scarlett Winters is the living bearer of the secret of immortality.
Sebastian Sinclair, vampire and stealer of souls, might be her only hope to
escape a deadly power struggle. But can she trust him? Caught between
sacrificing her morals and betrayal by those she trusted, Scarlett will risk
everything to escape…unless she dies trying.

Tina Traverse fell in love with writing at the age of eight when she wrote her version of the bible story, The Good Samaritan, for a homework assignment. This love grew into a passionate affair and has been ongoing for thirty years; and there are no signs of it waning. Though, she admits, when she was pregnant with her son Christian, the affair cooled.
Tina’s desire to write came calling once again when she needed to find a way to cope with heartbreaking news. Christian was diagnosed with autism in 2010.

Her method of coping was to write a story about his journey called Forever, Christian.

Tina likes to joke that a girl can only write about real life for so long without jumping back into the world of make believe. She loves to venture into the world of the supernatural; vampires and witches are her favourite! Tina enjoys all sorts of vampires but admits that she is fascinated with the modern romantic vampire (think Twilight and The Vampire Diaries). She is currently working on a vampire series based on her first published book, Destiny of The Vampire and has other projects in the works. When Tina is not at the computer creating her exciting, magical worlds, she is kept on her toes by her two sons, Christian and Brandon.

Sometimes the author manages to curl up in her favourite chair with a good book.

Covet combines many elements of the supernatural in a complex story covering a varied cast of characters. Scarlett suffers many hardships and is thrown onto a new path that will lead her towards her destiny. A destiny that will become entwined with that of twins Declynn and Sebastian. With a mix of fantasy, family and romance, this is a story that will take you on a wild journey.

Although this is book one of the trilogy, don’t worry, the story has a satisfying ending while still setting you up for book two.

Follow the tour crew and tour by clicking on any of these tour buttons from participating blogs!

Blog Tour: Fall Again by Donna Figueroa

Donna FigueDonna Figueroa Author Picroa is a very talented woman and it’s been such a pleasure getting to know her.  Her diverse career path has certainly given her plenty of inspiration for her writing and she is definitely an author to watch!

Donna is an actor and writer living and working in Los Angeles CA.  She has worked on stage and on the big and small screens. Her credits include appearances on several daytime dramas, voiceovers for animation, commercials and industrial projects, and several television commercials.

She is a producer and storyteller at The Story Salon, Los Angeles’s longest running storytelling venue where she has written, performed and developed 3 one person shows.

Donna considers herself an athletic shopper always in search of the ultimate bargain.

She lives in Hollywood with her husband writer/comedian Tony Figueroa, and their three neurotic cats.

Website:     FB:     Twitter: @fallagainseries


FALL-AGAIN-Beginnings-8What if you were to meet the perfect person – your best friend, soul mate and the great love of your life – but at the wrong time? That question is at the heart of Fall Again, a contemporary romantic series about two working actors set against the backdrop of New York, Los Angeles and points in-between.

In Beginnings you’ll meet Marc & Lauren in the optimistic New York City of the late 1980’s. Marc and Lauren meet when they are very young and building careers as professional actors in New York. Despite an obvious attraction, decorum dictates that their relationship remain platonic.

Over time Marc and Lauren find themselves struggling to maintain the façade of being just friends to those around them, as well as to each other. Regardless of their best efforts to remain friends Marc and Lauren fall in love.

Buy now on Amazon


Fall Again Blog Tour New16 Sept – Pamaceeve
17 Sept – Nat’s Book Nook
18 Sept – Room with Books
19 Sept – Books & More
20 Sept – Torie James
21 Sept – Erzabet’s Enchantments
23 Sept – Lynn Stevens
24 Sept – Undercover Book Reviews


He heard her quick light footsteps coming up the three flights of stairs before she finally came into view on the landing at the bottom of last flight of stairs.

As Lauren Phillips turned the corner she looked up at Marc and stopped, seeming surprised. “Marc?”

Marc responded as he took notice of the striking woman at the bottom of the stairs. “Yeah.”

An expression of pleasant recognition crossed her face. “Oh my God… Marc Guiro! I didn’t realize that Mel’s friend Marc… was you!” She confidently bounded up the last flight of stairs seeming very happy to see him.

But Marc was confused.  This girl appeared to know him, but as far as he knew he had never laid eyes on her.

Lauren quickly realized this. “I’m Lauren Phillips. I went to NYU and we lived in Weisman Hall at the same time the last two years you were in school.  We were in different towers but I saw you in the cafeteria and in the laundry room from time to time.  You were two years ahead of me… but we were in a dance class together one semester.”

Marc looked at her closely. “I only took two dance classes while I was at NYU.” He continued to look at her blankly.

Lauren tried not to take this personally and attempted to play off the situation with humor.  “Well whichever class you’re thinking of now… I was probably in the other one.”

Lauren flashed a cool controlled smile at Marc as Mel came into the hallway.

“Lauren…you made it!”

Lauren ran to her roommate giving her a big hug. “Thank you for today!  It was wonderful!”

Mel didn’t want to take credit for booking Lauren on her show.  Casting liked her look and personality.  All she had done was to deliver Lauren’s photograph and resume to the Clayton’s Crossing’s casting department. “No, Lauren that was all you.  I just gave casting your photograph.  Once they called you in for your interview I was out of it.”

Lauren was suddenly aware that she was ignoring Marc and looked back towards him.

“Mel got me a day of background work on Clayton’s Crossing today!” Her excitement was getting the best of her.

“So I’ve heard.  That’s great!  Why don’t you both come inside?”

Marc ushered them both into the apartment while still questioning himself.  Had he ever met this girl?  He would have remembered.

Lauren was attractive.  She had deep set dark brown eyes and dark hair which she was wearing pulled back into a perfect lose ponytail.  He could see that she was wearing a lot of makeup, but she would be after a day on set. The makeup only enhanced her high cheekbones and smooth skin.  She was dressed nicely in a gauzy long Indian skirt and blouse that she wore belted which showed off a tiny waist. She was slender.  Over her shoulder she carried a large tobacco colored leather satchel.

But Marc found himself looking beyond her physical appearance.  She had what some might call a sparkling personality, not to mention a bright and wonderful smile. Lauren’s energy was contagious. When she came up the last flight of steps toward him, it was as if someone had turned on an incredibly bright light.


Blog Tour: King Takes Queen by Monica Corwin

MonicaMonica is a talented and prolific author and I have to confess that I love working with her.  I share her passion for typewriters and I love to read her posts! Today, we’re looking at her latest release, King Takes Queen. If you love King Arthur and the Arthurian legends, then this is a must on your reading list.

Monica Corwin is an outspoken writer who attempts to make romance accessible to everyone no matter their preferences. As a new Northern Ohioian, Monica enjoys snow drifts, three seasons of weather, and disliking Michigan. When not writing, Monica spends time with her daughter and her ever growing collection of tomes about King Arthur.

Author Links:     Website   Facebook     Twitter     Goodreads     Amazon


kingtakesqueen2500Legend states when the King Arthur is needed most he will return. What if the legends are wrong?

Maggie Sanders gave six years and two feet of her now scarred and twisted body to the United States Army. She received a thank you note and a discharge in return. Effectively booted to the curb Maggie tries to pick up the pieces of her life until her revival is interrupted by one smoking hot immortal.

Arthur Pendragon, legendary King and military leader, has been trapped on the mythical island of Avalon for 1500 years. When he is thrust from captivity to the modern world he has to fight to stay there. Too bad for him, she has more fight than he anticipates. With the help of Maggie and a teenage Merlin, Arthur sets out to end his torture and free the rest of his comrades from imprisonment.

Goodreads    Paperback Edition     Amazon     Kobo


King Takes Queen Blog Tour

15 Sept – Romance Reviews Today
18 Sept – Romance Junkies
19 Sept – Savvy Authors
30 Sept – Pamaceeve
30 Sept – Undercover Book Reviews


She stood up and began to stretch her cramped muscles when the scent of apples slammed into her. It fairly choked her—the taste of sweet earth and tart apple.

Maybe I’m having a heart attack. She shook her left arm around, but nothing happened. The Army First Aid Handbook definitely stated something about odd scents and tingling in the left arm. Where was it coming from?

She took a step from behind the counter and a gust of air flattened her in a heartbeat. The sound of an explosion followed, adding more to the assault. Dust coated the entire store; books and shelves toppled over every inch of the floor. The shelves lay together like the folds of an accordion, grotesquely littered with books torn from their homes. Dust and dirt assaulted her senses as she wondered if she still lived. She swallowed the bile clogging her throat as she stared at the ceiling, unable to bring herself to move.

One moment she lay on her bookstore floor, the next her mouth clogged with dust as her heart pulsed behind her eyes. She couldn’t see anything but she was right back there in the sandbox, with the dust, the pain, and explosion that took everything from her.

Her ears began to ring and she touched a tender spot on her forehead to check for blood. Her vision cleared and nothing on her scalp seemed hurt or bruised either; she’d missed the counter by inches. The thought of dying from a blow to the head while in her bookstore seemed preposterous, and if she wasn’t already crying she might have laughed.

She sat up on her elbows, taking short breaths to remain calm. Nightmare after nightmare rolled through her mind so fast that all she could do was breathe through the pain invading her body and the tears tracking through the dust on her cheeks. She pushed a long gust of air from her chest, and used the relaxation techniques she learned to deal with her post-traumatic stress. Slowly, breath after breath, her heartbeat resumed a normal cadence and she felt more like herself.

Shame battled for ground amidst the cacophony of emotions swelling to burst insider her. She hadn’t worked through the worst of her nightmares; they could follow her to this new life. As feeling returned to her hands, chasing away the tingling of adrenaline, she realized she was happy to be alive, of course—and angry. She pushed stray cardboard and books off her legs and out of the way so she could stand, unsteady on her feet. She straightened her dress and brushed tears from her cheeks. She bent over so she could peek around the corner of the counter, sneaking out farther for a better view of where the explosion came from. On the ground lay a hand, palm facing her.

Maggie started to creep toward the hand, remaining cautious because whoever owned it knocked over two cases, and books flooded the floor in her path. She pushed through, gently sliding them out of her way as she moved closer while looking around for…

Maggie reached down and grabbed a large and scary edition of The Oxford Unabridged English Dictionary and held it up over her shoulder with both hands. She continued to inch toward the body. Her vision broke the edge of the last bookcase hiding him, and all the air rushed out of her lungs. He was huge, large, ginormous, and every other large adjective she could conjure up.

He was also very naked.

She leaned in closer, against her better judgment; the instinct to ensure he was at least alive proved more than she could resist. She scooted books out of the way with the toe of her shoe as she continued toward him. He certainly wasn’t dead; she knew what death looked like, so she kept the book up in a throwing position. Finally close enough to check his pulse, she crouched down, much to her hip’s dismay, and picked up the strong beat of his heart under her fingertips at the curve of his neck. He was alive, definitely alive, and his skin burned hot to the touch.

Far too much time had passed since she appreciated a naked male body, and his was certainly something to appreciate. He’s injured. You shouldn’t ogle him. She needed to conduct a damage and injury check. Starting at his feet, she progressed upward until she reached his face, cradled by books, and found herself staring into deep ocean eyes.

Their gaze shifted from her face to the book. In a blur of movement, so fast she couldn’t react, he held the book in one of his hands, his body pressed over hers, and her wrists clutched in his other fist. stunned moment of stillness descended. They were both breathing heavily, chests rising and falling, touching where his body held hers to the ground. He recovered first, throwing the book at a nearby pile and reaching to grip a wrist in either hand.

She shot him a nasty look before wrapping her legs around his waist in a grip strong enough to crush ribs, and then neatly smacked her forehead against his. Rearing his head back, he dropped a wrist and tentatively brought his hand to his forehead, checking for blood. In a split second, Maggie grabbed her fallen weapon and hit him square across his cheek.

Loud muttering curses exploded from him in a deep, accented voice. Before she could rear back he wrenched the book from her hand and threw it farther than her reach. It ricocheted off the other books as he regained control of her. Books dug into her back but she barely noticed with her bare legs wrapped around his narrow hips and his chest pressing her body to the ground. Maggie stared him down with a glare so menacing even the most insane of people would have released her, but the look he gave her in return was all heat.

Interview: Scott Weiczorek, author of Witness Through Time

scottI’m so thrilled to have author Scott Weiczorek as a guest on my blog today. Scott is a talented author and I can’t wait to share him with all of you.

Scott is a professional archaeologist working in the American Middle-Atlantic region. He has written numerous short stories and several full-length novels ranging from science fiction to paranormal mystery to horror. In addition, he writes reviews of books by Independent authors. Samples of his work are available on his blog at

Hi Scott and thanks for joining us today.  Please could you let us know what inspired you to write your first book?

I wrote my first book after an unfortunate turn of luck in my life. After several productive years of employment, my company decided to downsize and laid me off. With a horrible job market, I need some kind of outlet for my energy and I had always written short stories and tales. So I figured, what the hell? I’ll do it. And I did. My first self-published novel Byron: A Zombie Tale came out January 2013. Since then, several of my manuscripts have been picked up by small publishing houses, and I hope to keep growing my writing from there. I’d also like to self-pub a few more works, and we’ll see how that goes, too.

Writing is a fantastic outlet for energy and creativity and always rewarding.  So how did it feel to submit your first book to a publisher? What was the most terrifying thing about submitting your first book?

It felt great, and at the same time, like I wanted to throw up. The anticipation of whether or not a publisher would accept my story at me up inside worse than waiting for Christmas morning.

That’s a great way to describe the feeling and certainly quite accurate!  Tell me, how did you react to having to edit or make changes to your “baby”?

Overall I had no major issues with an editor making changes to my manuscript. My day job as an archaeologist made me accustomed to the process. In my position, I write a lot of technical reports. However, I did have to call out and correct some misconceptions one editor made on a manuscript. I had to explain that I worked for a time as an adjunct professor and taught the subjects they refuted me on. I have to say, it felt nice to be able to politely tell your editor, “No, that is not changing and this is why.”

That had to be a fantastic feeling! Great advice for authors is that you shouldn’t be afraid to stand your ground if you feel strongly about something in your manuscript.  I wonder, does it get any easier with more releases?

Not really. The day job cuts into a lot of writing and editing time. But I keep at it.

That’s the secret… don’t give up!  However, is it still just as exciting to have a book accepted?

Absolutely. I still get that Christmas morning feeling with every submission, and I just cannot wait to hear the verdict. When it’s a yes, I feel like I got the greatest shiny new gift! It’s a wonderful feeling!

A bit of an adrenalin rush after all the solitary work… It sounds nerve-racking and fun!  Hmm… What is the hardest part of being published for you?

The hardest part of being published for me is the whole marketing thing. I feel that I am terrible at social media. I am more of a one-on-one kind of guy. I can chat somebody’s ear off and make friends, but when it comes to climbing a soap box several times a day and yelling “Hey everyone, look at me! Buy my book!” Not so much. Marketing yourself and your stories is a tough thing to do. But I persist.

We’ve covered social media on the blog and one of the things to consider is that there are ways to build your brand without specifically talking about buying your book. Persisting is key!  So, if you were given one wish, what would you do with it?

What would I do if I were given a single wish? I’m not the kind of guy to blow something like that on cash or a big house, or anything like that. My wish is much more mundane, and far more personal. I would use it to bring my mom back for one day. She passed away a few months after I married my wife and I feel that she missed out on so many things—two grandchildren, her son getting his Master’s degree and becoming and archaeologist, and of course, my getting published. There are so many things I want to share with her, and things I want to ask her.

That’s a great wish and certainly better than some would wish for.  I’m sure she’s watching over you though. Tell me, what advice would you give an aspiring writer?

The best advice I can give an aspiring writer is to stick with it. Writing is a marathon, not a sprint. There is no “Get Rich Quick” kind of scheme to writing. Many of these wild success stories you hear about, are just that—stories. We are writers, we give life to words. Sometimes that life is fact, sometimes fiction.

So true! If you weren’t a writer, what other artistic outlet do you think you’d have?

I used to play the drums when I was much younger. I would spend hours behind the set thrashing away to various metal bands, jazz bands, country, rock, anything I could get my hands on. I listened to it all, and played it all. I had dreams of becoming a rock star. Then again, like I said, I was much younger. Those dreams fell away when it came time to be a responsible adult and do crazy things like pay bills and work full time. I eventually sold my drum set for a few extra bucks and have regretted the decision ever since. One day I would like to get another good drum set. Maybe one of the fancy electronic ones so I can play and not wake up the family. Only time will tell.

You should definitely look into that! I’m sure your neighbours will appreciate a “silent” set too *grin*. Final question… What has been the strangest place that inspiration has struck and how did you deal with it?

On several occasions, I have had inspiration strike me while listening to music on my morning commute. At the time, I drove more than two hours each way for work and could seldom afford to take one, let alone both, hands from the wheel to write it down. So I would keep playing the song over and over and over to keep the idea fresh in my head and to expand upon it. Upon arriving at the office, I would type like mad to sketch out the story, some major plot points, characters, etc…, and then print it out without saving. I happened to work for one of those companies that monitored everything you did on their computers. So when I would get home, I would transcribe it into my archive of story ideas.

I worked for one of those companies too… I love that advice… using the song to keep the idea fresh. It’s such a useful tip!

I really want to thank Scott for joining us today. Please check out his latest release, Witness Through Time.

Until next time,

BM xx


Witness_Cover_SAHuntWhen Glory Parker moves to the bucolic locale of Cragg’s Head Cove, Maine, she uncovers a mystery that has remained unsolved for more than fifteen years—the disappearances of four college students with the perpetrator still on the loose.

As the mystery unfolds around her, she becomes aware of her strange new ability to pierce the veil of time.

Can Glory solve the mystery before more people disappear?

Visit Scott Weiczorek on Amazon

Buy Now


The glow of her headlights caught a gleam of metal ahead in the distance. A car was pulled over to the roadside. Could it be Jim? Did he decide not to head in to the station, but to wait for her? As she approached, the car came more clearly into view—definitely not Jim’s.

Parked askew, it appeared the driver had pulled over in haste. The car’s headlights remained on, but its taillights sat dark. She couldn’t understand why someone would drive and abandon a car in such a dangerous way at night.

Against all her instincts and better judgment, she pulled off the road, grabbed her cell phone, and shut off her car. As it sputtered to a stop, it became apparent the other driver hadn’t turned his engine off. Had something terrible happened? Its occupants couldn’t be too far away. She reached into her center console and removed a flashlight before stepping out into the chilly night air.

She dialed Jim’s number, hoping he still had his cell phone handy, but groaned at the dead air against her ear. A glance at the screen told her all she needed to know—no bars. How could that even be? She’d just received a text from Jim mere moments ago. She sighed, debating whether to drive a little further up the road to find better reception, or a phone booth. But something tugged at her; people probably needed help, and she couldn’t just leave them here. With a shiver flitting up her spine, she stuffed the phone in her pocket and closed her car door.

As she stepped toward the embankment, the hackles stood on her neck. Something about the whole scene seemed wrong. Except for the low idle of the car, an eerie solitude settled about the place; not even the tree frogs croaked their mating songs in the night.

A scream pierced the stillness. She knew the sound—it didn’t belong to any kind of animal; it belonged to a woman. She pulled her phone from her pocket. She dialed Jim’s number again—still no reception.

Whipping her flashlight around, she pointed it to where the sound came from. Of course, it needed to be down the embankment. She slipped her phone into her pocket again; she would check for reception again later.

With a deep breath, she made her way down the steep roadside to the leaf-littered forest floor below. A quick examination of the slope as she went revealed another fresh path cut through the leaves, and snapped branches. Someone had crashed through here at high speed. Another scream caught her attention—a female voice, and definitely in trouble. Glory broke into a sprint, following the voice. She ran through the woods, branches whipping her face and brush grabbing her ankles.

“Somebody! Help me!”

The girl’s scream sounded loud and clear. Something crashed in the leaves ahead, followed by a groan and sounds of struggle.

“Let me go, you bastard.” The girl’s voice echoed through the woods.

“Shut up!” The angry voice belonged to a male.

As her feet crashed through the leaves, she heard something like a meaty thud.

Glory stopped dead in her tracks, reached for her phone, and dialed 9-1-1. She pressed send—nothing again. Crap! She must still be in a dead spot. The irony struck her. If she didn’t do something soon, then this would certainly be a dead spot for the girl. She needed to help—one way or another. Glory crept up, extinguishing her flashlight. She followed the sounds of struggle pierced by the girl’s sobs and squeals.

“Yeah,” said the male voice, “you go ahead and cry. Ain’t nobody gonna help you.” Glory could hear from the sound of his voice that he was enjoying himself.

The girl wailed, her voice carrying through the barren trees. The sharp clap of an open-handed slap echoed through the dark. Another wail flew into the night.

Glory could see the pair on the ground. The mousy young brunette girl lay on her back with a young man of average build atop her. He wore a backward baseball cap and Glory couldn’t see his face. They wrestled around as he tried to pin her hands at her sides. She wriggled her hand free and tried to punch him, but he grabbed her wrist, trapping it again.

She scanned the ground for anything she could use as a weapon. Ten feet to her right, lay a long, thick branch, about four-feet in length. Her heartbeat thrummed in her ears. Sidling like a crab, she slid her phone in her pocket and picked it up, creeping toward them.

Before she could reach them, though, the male straightened up, bellowing in pain. He clutched a hand to his face. Blood covered one of the girl’s hands.

Blog Tour: Erotic Destinations with Ember Leigh

Ember Leigh Author Pic

Ember Leigh is younger than I am, I won’t say by how much, but I found myself thinking “I’d like to be her when I grow up”.  A woman of strong spirit, with an independent streak, a lust for travel and a talent for writing, she has already got more figured out than I did at her age.  I’ve thoroughly enjoyed reading her blog posts for each of her tour stops and would recommend that you do the same.

Ember Leigh has been writing erotic romance novels since she was far too young. A native of northern Ohio, she currently resides in South America with her Argentinean partner, a detail she uses to justify her Bachelor’s degree in Latin American Literature. In addition to romance novels, she also writes travel articles, maintains three blogs, and continually attempts to complete a mildly-gripping short story. In her free time, she practices Ashtanga yoga, travels the world, and eats lots of vegetables.


Twitter: @EmberLeighAuth

Instagram: @EmberLeighAuthor



Erotic Destinations Blog Tour

09 Sept – Pamaceeve
10 Sept – Coffee Time Romance
10 Sept – Nat’s Book Nook
10 Sept – Paranormal Book Fairy
11 Sept – Romance Junkies
11 Sept – Room with Books
12 Sept – Romance Reviews Today
12 Sept – Books & More
13 Sept – Savvy Authors
14 Sept – Erzabet’s Enchantments
16 Sept – Lynn Stevens
18 Sept – Undercover Book Reviews


Today we take a look at book 1 and book 2 in her Erotic Destinations series and we also bring you a teaser from the upcoming 3rd book, Turkish Delight.

Carlos and Casey by Ember Leigh CoverCarlos & Casey

Join two ex-lovers, four years after their last romp. When a work trip brings Casey back into Carlos’ territory, she knows she’d have him right there in the airport parking lot. But Carlos doesn’t seem so eager.

Unsure of herself post-divorce, Casey knows only one thing: she wants this man as much as she did the last time she saw him. And she’s more than ready to relive every saucy adventure they had together.

Can the sparks be salvaged, or has time left them behind?

Amazon     Barnes & Noble     iBooks      Kobo


Her breath caught as she followed him up the staircase, tucked to the far side of the house. Carlos had always been fit enough, but it looked like he’d taken up some new form of exercise in the past four years. He was beefier, yet still lean. His ass moved round and tight in front of her as they climbed the stairs. At the landing, he gestured in front of them.

“This is my studio, but it’s all yours for tonight.”

It was a rec room that took up the whole second floor, and far more standard male than the ground floor alluded to. Movie posters, gaming systems, books scattered on floors and coffee tables, and, off to one side, the trumpet, asleep in a bed of sheet music. In the corner there was an overstuffed couch just about as wide as she was long – it would be great to sleep on, even better if he could bend her over that armrest and fuck her until dinner was ready.

She cleared her throat, deciding adult friendships could be fun, even after four questionable years. “I thought I’d be sharing a bed with you?” She tried to keep her tone playful as she sauntered toward the couch. She tossed him a smile and she caught a glimpse of him looking very stricken. Shit. Too far. Things are too different now. Abort!

Maybe too much time had passed in general. Maybe he was courting a girl and wanted to take it slow with her. Maybe he no longer found her attractive, four years becoming the dagger in the heart. Maybe he’d become celibate, or found her life too normal and boring. There was a whole list of reasons why she shouldn’t make the first move.

“I was just joking,” she said after a moment, rolling her eyes. “Come on, lighten up.”

He exhaled slowly, looking down at the ground as his tongue found the corner of his mouth. “I know it was a joke, Case.”

“In case you forgot, we used to share a bed.” She looked at him pointedly, already horrified that the words were coming from her lips. What was she getting at? Who had authorized this dialogue?

He squeezed his eyes shut and laughed softly. “Oh, I remember.”


When In Rome by Ember Leigh CoverWhen in Rome

“When in Rome, do as the Romans do”…right? Alexandra is a travel junkie and foreign air aficionado. When she finally decides to do Rome, she never thought it would involve a hot Italian, too.

What’s a girl to do when a desire to see the world and instant lust collide in the middle of one of the most popular tourist destinations in the world?

Just DO the Roman!

Amazon      Barnes & Noble     iBooks     Kobo


He pulls me toward the inner rail, and points to the upper rim of the Coliseum. The heat of his palm against my low back sends shivers through me. A lip of arches is topped with a low wall, dotted with boxy windows. In one section, the wall has crumbled away. The clear blue Roman sky breaks through. “Now that is where, honest to God, they installed a …what do you call it? The device to listen to conversations about the dissolution of the Roman Empire.”

I snort. “Wiretaps in the 1500’s. I totally believe that.”

“Hey, I’m Italian.” He flashes a cheesy grin. “You have to believe me. It’s my country.”

“You should work as a tour guide.” I poke his belly, pleased by the hardness beneath his thin t-shirt. “I would pay good money to hear your bullshit.”

“Luckily, you don’t have to pay. Today. But tomorrow, full price.”

“Oh, you’ll be here tomorrow? I could call upon your Bullshit Guide Services again?”

He grins, dimples flashing. My knees weaken and I want to take that grinning face into my hands and kiss him until my lips hurt. And then he grabs my hand as we walk, and squeezes it. A gush of moisture releases between my legs and I know this is serious. Really serious.

We watch each other as we walk. His hand is warm and a little moist, but not the weird moist. Just-right moist.  I imagine the warmth traveling through my body like a snake, seeking out the farthest extremities and then circling back again to settle conveniently in my vaginal area.

About a minute later, he stops and pulls me into a dark corner of the corridor, behind a large stone pillar. His body connects roughly with mine as he pushes me against the wall, my chest heaving as I appraise the situation. I am startled and insanely aroused, like a woman caught masturbating in the shower by her sexy gardener. The parts of his body that connect with mine are like lightning, causing hot zips of painful pleasure right beneath the surface.

“Can I kiss you?”

I nod, and he presses his lips to mine. My eyes flutter shut and his scent consumes me, a mixture of aftershave and heady male. Our second kiss is deeper, and the third mind-boggling. The smooth texture of the stone pillar is cold through my t-shirt. He cups my cheek, fingertips connecting hot with my jawline.

We break apart. My mind is spinning like I just took a flying leap off a bridge. Was this actually real? I swear to God, thirty seconds ago I was just walking around the Coliseum like any regular person, mapping my trek through the anatomical eyeball. Then, this guy comes along and pins me to the wall and has his way with me. And I am notcomplaining. Maybe there’s something to the idea that if you want something hard enough, it will come. It seems that the past twelve hours imagining sex with this guy has paid off.

He smiles, his face so close to mine that his breath comes out hot against my cheek. It does not smell like olive oil, as I once callously suggested all Italians might.

“That was nice,” I say.

He nods, and kisses me again. His tongue meets mine hesitantly, and then we begin a round of sloppy, desperate kisses that could probably qualify for the lamest of chick flicks. I moan and then quiet myself, not wanting to tip off tourists or security guards. He tenses and breaks the kiss, peering around the pillar at something. I shift against him, and I swear his cock is hard as a rock against my hip. I glance down, trying to discern if it’s that or something else, like a belt buckle.

No belt on. That’s a good sign.


Sneak peak at book 3


All the female staffers go wild for Kadir when he arrives in the USA to compete in a reality dance competition. A Turkish soap opera star with eyes that could melt snow, he’s got the women clawing for his attention— except Jenna. She wants no part of the hullabaloo. Though she can’t help wondering if tasting this sexy Turkish Delight might be worth bending the rules a little…


Kadir emerged from behind the curtain of his dressing room in a skintight black suit with a startling array of bright blue sequins. It was like a futuristic space suit mated with the gaudiest of show tunes. He grimaced as her gaze fell on his costume.

“I can’t wear this on stage,” he said, sneaking a glance in the mirror. “I’ve never worn something so overtly gay.”

Jenna bit her lip as she looked him up and down. He was right, the costume was laughable. Though it might look spectacular under the lights and grandeur of the stage, up close it was a hilarious mess.

But it wasn’t all bad. Kadir was sculpted, a fact that wouldn’t go away no matter how much she tried to dodge the issue. And it seemed every way she turned, his biceps or an errant brush of his hands was waiting for her, tugging at her resolve.

It didn’t help that his cock was perfectly showcased in this get-up, caressed by the strange black satin in a way that made it impossible to look away. She cleared her throat, working hard to keep her face neutral and breathing even. He must be huge under there. Probably bigger than her favorite vibrator, the one she’d been using over the past few days as she entertained lurid fantasies about him.

“It’ll look great for the cameras,” was all she said. And every woman in America will be dying to put your dick in their mouths.

He watched her, a strange smile on his face. Without a word, he kicked the door closed behind her. “Can you help me out of it?” His dark eyes gleamed with mischief.

She jerked her head into a nod. “Of course. That’s what I’m here for.” And if you need me to touch any parts of your body, or use my lips in any fashion, please let me know.

He turned around. The wide expanse of his back still commanded her attention despite the glittering array of sequins. She reached for the zipper, tugged it down the length of his back. It stopped just above his ass, and the unexpected glimpse of his ass crack made her heart flutter. No underwear. None at all. His butt looked smooth, unexpectedly white, and even more round and firm-looking from inches away than all the distant gazing of recent times had suggested.

He faced her, grinning like a devil. He pulled his arms out of the costume, revealing a wide, fair chest dotted with dark hair. Her gaze followed the fabric as he removed the clothes— two dime-sized nipples, a pleasant convergence of chest hair into a happy trail, washboard abs.

Kadir paused when the costume was at his hips. “I can keep going, if you’d like.”

The moment hung heavy and confused before clarity burst through like sun after a rainstorm. “Yes. Please.”

A New Camelot and a Dream Fulfilled

“Sometimes the only way to find yourself is to get lost along the way.” ~John Green

There’s always a moment in time when you have to make a decision, for good or ill that will alter your life.

Two years and some change ago, I sat staring hard at the computer screen. Pages and pages of words, my personal drug. Hard work and a newly burgeoning love had given me the impetus to attempt something I’d given up on a very long time ago.

I was going to write a book.

With the man I’d fallen in love with. A shared dream we both were excited about in the beginning but that which had become a bone of contention between us for various reasons. I won’t bore you with all the gory details, except to say life for me became a horribly mocking cliché that nearly shattered the hard won happiness and peace I’d been struggling with for years.

Let’s simply say he was my Romeo, but I wasn’t his Juliet.

It only seemed ‘right’ I delete the story we’d been building up. We were over and that meant the book was over before it even began. How could I ever finish something that was supposed to be ‘ours’? When every word mocked me and I couldn’t stop crying? To finish it would be daily torture. To give up would be admitting defeat.

And as I had many nights before, I grumbled and shut the computer down without erasing the story thus far. I’d do it tomorrow.

For sure.

Now, however, I was going to curl up in bed and nurse my sorrows with Hagen Dasz finest Coffee Ice Cream and a grip of movies.

Hours passed. I watched Merlin, Highlander, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. Then it was on to Francis Ford Coppola’s Dracula (with Gary Oldman. I love Gary Oldman.) The very last thing I watched, before tumbling into sleep and dreams was Disney’s The Sword in the Stone.

The narrator’s voice was soothing and hypnotic, his last words filtering into my mind and following me down that rabbit hole of darkness…

“And below the hilt in letters of gold were written these words: Whoso pulleth out this sword of this stone and anvil is right wise king born of England. Though many tried for the sword with all their strength none could move the sword nor stir it. So the miracle had not worked. And England was still without a king. And in time, the marvelous sword was forgotten. This was a dark age without law and without order. Men lived in fear of one another for the strong preyed upon the weak.”

And in time, the marvelous sword was forgotten. Forgotten. Forgotten.

Or not…

I dreamed. Hard. And it was full of color and magic.

I dreamt I stumbled into a dark forest, only the moon lit my way. And eventually, I rounded a path and came to a stop when I saw…it.

It was…beautiful.

A craggy grayish boulder with swirls of gleaming pink and moss green. The silvery moon bathed it in iridescent light, casting an ethereal glow as only a dream can.

And stuck in the stone was the most dazzling of swords.

But not as dazzling as what happened next.

I met a man.

A magic man.

I met Merlyn Emrys. Yes, THE Merlyn Emrys of ancient Arthurian Lore. Note: we are NOT talking a spindly legged, heavily bearded old man with bad teeth and surly attitude. He hates that image, by the way and says he can own Gandalf the White any day. *winks* Long story short, Merlyn said two words to me, “What if”. What if we got the players right but the stories wrong? The tales of Arthur, Excalibur and Camelot. Then he told me what REALLY happened…

It was eerily similar to The Book I was considering trashing with a few …changes.

Or ‘truths’ as Merlyn says.

And when Merlyn asks you to just…’try, one more time. Please?’  You just don’t say no.

I woke up and the rest as they say is history.

I didn’t delete the book. I didn’t walk away.

I fashioned a new world.

A new dream.

A new vision.

A New Camelot.


Timeless Night

17322_1648452455390369_6360017164153480998_nIn an epic battle of good versus evil, one woman finds herself the focal point of a magical feud. Sabrina thought she knew who she was until a knight of long ago returns to steal her heart. If you could live forever, what would you choose to live for? I chose love… A silent guardian, Alexander has walked the corridors of time in pursuit of an end to a haunting prophecy. Sabrina has lived a life surrounded by modern magic, unaware that the greatest and deadliest of powers reside within her own soul. If it only takes the light of love to ignite the stars, what of the decadent seduction of darkness? All roads don’t lead home and some myths only grow into legend.

Behind The Scenes

“Timeless Night” in its first incarnation wasn’t the book that eventually became published. I had something else entirely in mind for my male lead, Alex and his sassy soul-mate, Sabrina. However, the more I learned about each of them, they changed my mind right quick. In its first draft, there were very little Arthurian overtones at all mixed in.  I hinted that Alex’s past was tied loosely to Camelot, but that was it. And Sabrina was the last Van Helsing alive and determined to carry out her family’s legacy.

Timeless Desire

1977475_1648452358723712_6232067013133017460_nTrust hides the truth and spans eternity when one secret-born of treachery and upheld by honor-stands between a broken heart and shattered soul. If you could live forever, what would you choose to live for? I chose honor… Awakening to a new world, Gawain has high hopes that the last 500 years have cooled the fires of hatred burning in the heart of his wife, Nimue. Cruelly betrayed by the one person she put all her faith and trust in, Nimue hasn’t forgotten the lone cowardly act of one of King Arthur’s greatest knights. Together again and yet forever apart, can they heal the past when a new enemy rises to threaten the foundation of all they hold dear?

Behind The Scenes

Timeless Desire almost became my ‘swan song’. Writing out the story between Nimue and Gawain stirred up feelings inside of me that I’d thought I’d dealt with previously. I was wrong. While my own ‘real life’ issue wasn’t the same as theirs, it dealt with betrayal, trust, truth and emotional pain so severe, it can take your breath away. And it did. I began and quit this book so many times, it affected me greatly. I wanted to show that love is the most powerful of emotions, but that sometimes, love isn’t enough. Gawain didn’t give me many problems but our Lady Nimue was stubborn, determined and unrelenting. She isn’t a woman who trusts easily but we understood each other.

Please note: I hadn’t meant to end this bad boy with the cliffhanger it has. I did NOT seeing that coming until I’d finished the previous chapter.


NEW (1)This month marks the 2nd anniversary of the series debut. I’m currently working on the third book and have laid out the outlines for 2 more books past that.

It’s been insanely chaotic and wholly wonderful.

And it’s been entirely worth everything that happened to get me here.

In honor of the series and because I firmly believe you only keep what you have by giving it away, I’m giving away a $25 Amazon Gift Card and a bouquet of ebooks by some of my fave indie authors!


All you need to do is visit my website at: and follow the Rafflecopter link to enter to win. This will be open until the end of September.

When I was younger, I thought all the best fairytales began with Once Upon a Time and ended with Happily Ever After.

I didn’t know mine would start with a question…

If you could live forever, what would you choose to live for?

I choose Magic.

NEW (6)


Torie James

Paranormal Romance Author

TorieTorie has loved reading since she was old enough to hold a book in her lap. While her friends were out playing, she was generally curled up nearby falling down rabbit holes, catching second stars to the right, and stepping through wardrobes into mysterious lands and countless adventures. When those stories ended, she made up her own and kept going. This later translated into a strong passion for writing that has helped her keep her feet on the ground while her head stayed firmly in the clouds. Lover of Dr. Pepper, all things chocolate, and Duran Duran, her dreams finally became a reality with the publication of Timeless Night, followed six months later by Timeless Desire, Books One and Two of her award winning New Camelot series.

A series of short stories, including Ties That Bind: The Cloie Chronicles, Book One, have also been published.

Currently working on several projects, including the 3rd installment of her New Camelot Series (Timeless Surrender, Book 3) and a new anthology called Fractured Fantasies,  Torie lives in Southern California with her family and a houseful of pets who rule the roost.

Blog and Website      Facebook      Twitter      Goodreads      Amazon

NEW (2)

Winner of “Best Published Book in 2013” by Writing World.

2014 RONE Award Winner (Paranormal)

6th place in Sci Fi/Fantasy for 17th Annual Predators & Editors Readers Poll

9th place in Romance for 17th Annual Predators & Editors Readers Poll.

Top Ten Finisher Preditors & Editors Poll (Best Short Other) 2014

Top Ten Finisher Preditors & Editors Poll (Best Short Other) 2014

NEW (7)

Blog Tour – The Day Before by Liana Brooks

I first met Liana through our former mutual publisher and knew her as a writer of incredible romance stories. My faith in her talent was rewarded when she signed a deal with HarperCollins for a 3 book series.  I wasn’t even a little surprised that it was for their Voyager Imprint which specialises in Fantasy and SciFi *grin*. I was delighted therefore when she approached me about a tour for book 1 in the series, The Day Before.

I discovered that being published by a “big” publisher isn’t necessarily as glamorous as it sounds… in many ways, an imprint author is still an indie author, expected to promote their work vigorously and to assist in ensuring the success of the book in much the same way as self-published or indie press published authors would.  This book sounds so intriguing though that I don’t think it’ll take too long before she has legions of fans in this genre.


The Day Before_High Res_CoverA body is found in the Alabama wilderness. The question is:
Is it a human corpse … or is it just a piece of discarded property?

Agent Samantha Rose has been exiled to a backwater assignment for the Commonwealth Bureau of Investigation, a death knell for her career. But then Sam catches a break—a murder—that could give her the boost she needs to get her life back on track. There’s a snag, though: the body is a clone, and technically that means it’s not a homicide. And yet, something about the body raises questions, not only for her, but for coroner Linsey Mackenzie.

The more they dig, the more they realize nothing about this case is what it seems … and for Sam, nothing about Mac is what it seems, either.

This case might be the way out for her, but that way could be in a bodybag.

A thrilling new mystery from Liana Brooks, The Day Before will have you looking over your shoulder and questioning what it means to be human.

Grab your copy here:    HarperCollins        Amazon      Barnes and Noble      iTunes      Kobo


The Day Before Tour Stops

02 Sept – Pamaceeve
03 Sept – Paranormal Book Fairy
03 Sept – Nat’s Book Nook
04 Sept – Savvy Authors
04 Sept – Room with Books
04 Sept – Coffee Time Romance
05 Sept – Books & More
07 Sept – Book Girl Knitting
09 Sept – Lynn Stevens
10 Sept – Undercover Book Reviews
11 Sept – Night Owl Reviews
25 Sept – OmniMystery News
22 Oct   – Patricia Stoltey
TBC – SF Signal


Liana Brooks_headshotLiana Brooks once read the book GOOD OMENS by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett and noted that both their biographies invited readers to send money (or banana daiquiris). That seems to have worked well for them. Liana prefers strawberry daiquiris (virgin!) and will never say no to large amounts of cash in unmarked bills.

Her books are sweet and humorous with just enough edge to keep you reading past your bedtime.

Liana was born in San Diego after bouncing around the country she’s settled (temporarily) in the great wilderness of Alaska.

Website      Goodreads      Facebook      Twitter       Newsletter


Friday May 17th, 2069

Alabama District 3

Commonwealth of North America

With an asthmatic wheeze the engine died. It figured. Stuck in a man’s craw, it did. This truck had been his daddy’s and his pappy’s, and before the Commonwealth government forced him to replace the diesel engine with the newfangled water doohickey, he was certain he’d pass the truck onto his son.

He’d been playing under the hood of trucks since he was six and now he was stranded. Embarrassing, that’s what it was. He climbed out of the cab to check the engine out of habit. The ice blue block of modern fuel efficiency stared back. Three hundred bucks it’d cost him, straight from his pocket.

Oh, there was a government subsidy, all right. A priority list. Major Population Centers, they said. Unite the countries of the Commonwealth on a timeline, they said. And what did all that mean?

It meant the damn Yankees got upgraded cities and free cars before the ink was dry on the Constitution and what about the little man? Nobody thought about the working class. No one cared about a man covered in oil and grease anymore.

He thumbed his cellphone on. No reception. Figured.

So much for the era of new prosperity. He’d hoof it. There was a little town about five miles down the road where he could call Ricky to bring a tow truck. It would have been cheaper to pay the diesel fines than get all this fixed.

Off schedule. Over budget. Son of a –

He stared at the distant trees. Well, it wasn’t going to get any cooler.

He grabbed his wallet and keys from the cab of his truck. The tree line looked like a good spot to answer a call from nature, then he’d see if there weren’t a shortcut through to town. A meadowlark sang. Not a bad day for a hike. Would’ve been better if it weren’t so dammed hot, but at least the humidity was low. He wouldn’t like to walk in a summer monsoon, not at his age with arthritis playing up.

Under a sprawling oak he unzipped his pants. As an afterthought, he glanced down to make sure he wouldn’t stir up a hill of fire ants.

A hand lay next to his boots.

He blinked, zipped his pants slowly, and turned around. “Hello?”

Cicadas chirped in answer.

“Are you drunk?” The quiet field that looked so peaceful only moments before was now eerily sinister. He nudged the hand with his foot. It was swollen and pale and crusted with blood, just like a prop out of a horror movie.

Maybe it was a good idea to run to the next town.

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