Monday, February 18, 2019

#MysteryMonday #ShatteredTomorrows


Shattered Tomorrows
C. L. Kraemer
Excerpt Heat Level: 1 
Book Heat Level: 
Crime/mystery


BLURB: Shattered Tomorrows

Her life was going along just fine until she accompanied her best friend, Cassie, to her attorney’s suite on top of the Equitable Building in downtown Salem, Oregon.
Once inside the lawyer’s office, the world turned upside down and Lucy was forced to face a demon from her past. Thirty years ago, life had been different. Lucy had discovered Prince Charming and was headed to her happily ever after.
That’s when the devil intervened and because of her brush with the devil, innocent people died.

EXCERPT: Shattered Tomorrows

Staring at the reflective elevator door, I didn't recognize the middle-aged face staring back at me.

When had I grown so old? When had gray become the dominant color of my dark brown hair? And please, tell me, where the hell had I picked up those doggie jowls?

Cassie Thorpe, my best friend since, well, what seemed forever, looked into the reflection.

"What are you doing?" She cocked her head in that funny way she always does when she's questioning my sanity. This time she added crossed arms and a hitched eyebrow. 

"Wondering how age snuck up and attacked me without my knowledge." I peered at my likeness, my finger tracing a line from my nose to my chin around what used to be a full voluptuous mouth.

"Oh, God."

I watched Cassie roll her eyes as she uncrossed her arms and adjusted the purse on her shoulder. She shook her head and blew air between her lips. 

"Lucy, just schedule a face lift. I told you I'd front you the money."

The elevator had reached the top floor of the Equitable Building in downtown Salem. The interior had recently undergone a major renovation and featured Italian marble in most of the lobby and down the hallways. Small areas of plush carpet covered the remainder of the floor. The new owners had muted the government gray walls with a faux Tuscan-inspired paint, adding art deco sconces to the walls. Bronze lamps hung from the cathedral ceiling adding a touch of elegance to the lobby area. Dark leather couches and chairs placed in comfortable conversation settings invited the visitor to stop and admire the effect. Every effort had been made to rid the visitor of the government feel of the square, granite and smoked-glass building.

"Where are we going again?" I followed Cassie out of the lift toward a hallway that wound to sculpted, cherry-stained office doors bearing the gold suite number.

She placed a hand on the gold-plated door handle and turned as she spoke to me. "My lawyer. Bobby's balking about handing over the chalet at Mt. Bachelor."

"Oh."

We entered an office painted in muted tones of blue. The money invested in the cherry wood desk occupied by the receptionist would've paid for that facelift Cassie had offered. The blue-gray guest couches were satiny soft and comfortable.

Speaking into her silver, state-of-the-art headset, the pencil-thin blonde at the desk announced Cassie.

I hadn't even transferred the latest issue of People magazine to my lap when a door, magnificently blended into the cool blue wall opened revealing a young man wearing a fitted, black Baroni suit. A Rolex peeked from beneath the sleeve of a silk dress shirt and Gucci loafers covered his feet. He lifted a manicured finger and beckoned us into the inner sanctum.

I would've been happy to stay and read the most recent dirt on the latest itcouple, but Cassie dragged me behind her. My feet sank into the carpet. I swear. It was like walking on that miracle foam bedding. I turned to see if I'd left my footprints. Cassie cleared her throat and shook her head. 

I shrugged my shoulders and stood awkwardly, waiting for permission to seat myself. 

The young man moved around the L-shaped desk made of Koa wood and seated himself in a large steel-blue leather chair. He motioned us to sit in the two upholstered chairs in front of his monstrosity of a desk as he perched straight backed and rigid in the chair. Behind him an impressive ten foot tall, thirty foot long array of silver gray curtains waved slightly with the breeze from the rising warmth of the heater.

Once we were all settled and our roles firmly established, he moved to the front of his desk to languidly lean on the edge. Grasping Cassie's hand, he placed a delicate kiss on the top ofit, his steely eyes gazing into her chocolate brown ones.

"What can I… do for you?"


Courtney Rene for Rogue's Angelssays:  "If you are looking for a good fast paced read this is the story for you."


Sunday, February 17, 2019

#RomanceSunday #Ella'sPleasure


Title: Ella’s Pleasure
Twelve Dancing Princesses Book Seven

Author: Christine Young
ISBN: 978-1-62420-393-0
Genre: Historical Romance
Excerpt Heat Level: 1
Book Heat Level: 4

Buy at: Amazon,


TAGLINE: Ella's Pleasure


BLURB: Ella's Pleasure

A WHISPER OF PLEASURE

Ella Hepburn Is an auburn haired debutant from the harsh Scottish coastline—a wild innocent to be seduced and tamed. A spirited beauty, she captivated Drake Montgomerie's jaded heart—while succumbing to the smoldering desire she felt for her unyielding suitor.

A WHISPER OF DANGER

In Drake Montgomerie's glittering world of money and privilege, young Ella discovered passion and desire could overcome everything she'd been taught to resist—entangling Drake, the heir apparent, in a lethal coil of aristocratic family intrigue. But grave peril would only nurse the sparks of a love that knew no limits and a magnificent ecstasy that would not be denied.



EXCERPT: Ella's Pleasure


“Come, let’s take this path.” He settled one hand on the small of her back, directing her to the left. “I want to show you something.”
She gazed at him with wide eyes. “What? It’s getting late, I’m sure The Duchess will be looking for us.”
“Trust me, she won’t have to search for you. Between my men and Scarlett, they know exactly where we are. I mean to elude them for a few minutes of privacy.” He bent close to her and whispered. “I want to kiss you and there are just too many folks here.”
“Kiss me? I like your kisses.”
“I’m glad.” Lord, but he didn’t know what he’d do if she’d told him the opposite. “This way.” They were strolling deeper into the gardens where fewer people walked. Privacy was what he wanted; this was exactly where he meant to steal a real kiss from Ella Hepburn.
“What are those noises?” she stopped and looked at him, searching for the source of the sounds.
He ran one finger between his collar and neck attempting to figure out what to tell her. “They are people enjoying pleasure.”
The expression on her face outlined by the gaslights amazed him. “Is it what I’m thinking?”
“I don’t know. What do you believe you hear?” He laughed inside at the joy he felt about this inquisitive lady.
“Well, I don’t think they are just kissing.” Even in the half-light he watched the blush rise on her cheeks as she covered her mouth as if she understood what was going on all around her.
“Remember our conversation about love making?”
She nodded her eyes huge with wonder. “In public?”
“My darling girl, can you see them?”
“No, but I now know what they are doing.”
“Hush,” he said, guiding her to a spot just beneath a light. “I’m going to kiss you until your Auntie finds us and stops me from having my wicked way with you in those bushes.”
He turned Ella and looking into her eyes, his mouth descended to meet hers. His hands at the small of her back pulled her close. With a surprised gasp she delighted him by opening her mouth. His tongue invaded with a primal urgency, creating a mercuric heat within. Tasting her sweetness and the honeyed depth of her mouth, his groan emanated from deep within.
Ella responded by wrapping her hands around his neck and running her fingers through his hair. Slipping her tongue inside his mouth, she met him with courage and passion. Her tiny feminine cry of surrender gave him confidence she enjoyed him. His hands slipped lower to cover her derriere and pull her tight against his pulsing cock, wondering if she understood the intense desire emanating from him.
He accepted all of her; teeth, tongue, lips, pressed together in an age-old rhythm. Taking her inside himself was heaven on earth. For a moment he pulled away, needing to see her eyes. Her face, flushed with pleasure, enticed him and his mouth found hers once more. Never wanting this to end, his kiss became urgent, and she responded with so much passion he wanted to bury himself deep inside her warmth. For today and this moment the kiss would have to be enough.
A sudden sharp pain shot across his back. “Stop this, Drake Montgomerie.” Another whack hit him in the buttocks and another. “Stop. Unhand Miss Ella before I let my sword slip from its hiding place.”


KEYWORDS

Historical, Romance, Regency, England

SOCIAL LIINKS

http://christineyoung-romancewriter.blogspot.com/
https://www.facebook.com/Christine-Young-350132315013316/
https://twitter.com/achristay
https://www.pinterest.com/chrisy/


Saturday, February 16, 2019

#Sci/FiFantasySaturday #ST.Batsy$TheTimeMachine


St. Batzy and the Time Machine
Genie Gabriel

Excerpt Heat Level: 1
Book Heat Level: 1

Buy at: Amazon


A modern day castle in western Oregon. An eccentric inventor is determined to reclaim his wayward time machine and save his beloved wife from her latest misadventure. If only they can travel safely past the black hole…


EXCERPT: St. Batzy & The Time Machine

Horace Ainsworth patted the side of the giant red fire hydrant towering two stories above him then addressed the terrier mix dog staring at him curiously. "It's finished. Now don't you dig in my Maddie's roses any more or potty on the pansies."

Batzy stared at Horace's retreating back for a moment before he hiked his leg on the nearest flowering plant.

Then he turned his attention to the odd-looking structure the Big Human had erected. Not like any fire hydrant he'd ever sniffed. A canine would have to be the size of King Kong to give this thing a proper marking. 

Though it did smell like the water that sprayed out of the hose when the human across the street yelled at him. Batzy grinned and lifted his leg, imagining he was returning the spray of the yelling human. 

As he circled this mysterious structure, the smell of fresh paint and overturned earth drifted into his nostrils. It was bigger than the merry-go-round at the park where his human, Chloe, sometimes took him. 

Wonder what's inside?

Batzy scratched at the side of the structure then trotted another few steps and scratched again. About halfway around he found an opening. Not tall enough for the Big Human, but just about perfect for his little girl, Chloe.Batzy darted inside and lifted his face to sample the aromas. 

No scents of danger but much to explore. Like this box of dirt. Odd. Big humans usually didn't appreciate the joys of digging. Hadn't he just been told not to dig in the rose bushes? A sniff and a poke with his paw uncovered a bone. Fresh out of the package. Batzy looked around. What game was the Big Human playing? 

"Batzy!" his little girl was calling him. 

Batzy stepped out of the digging pit. Hmm. I smell peanut butter.

He put a front paw on a cabinetfor balance and nosed a button. A bone-shaped treat fell into a bowl below. Also fresh out of a package. The Big Human was definitely up to something. Batzy gobbled it down quickly before looking around again.

"Batzy!" 

Drat!He had to go. On his way out, Batzy stepped back into the digging box and snatched up the bone. Outside once again, he pushed the bone through the gap under the fence, and squeezed through after it. 

He popped up on the other side with only a few more streaks of mud on the white of his belly and wagged his tail at Chloe. He'd go back to explore the Big Human's structure later. 

~ * ~

Satisfied he had neutralized the threat to Maddie's rose bushes, Horace returned to the workshop in the basement of their castle-shaped home. In King Arthur's time, the sorcerer Merlin might have worked his magic in similar surroundings. Had Merlin simply been a scientist with an observing eye and a searching mind? 

That's how Horace saw himself: open to possibilities and what others might consider impossibilities. He loved to explore "what if" and took delight in disproving "facts." Edison did it with the light bulb. The Wright brothers did it with airplanes. Horace continued that tradition with a flying car and a robot that served dinner, as well as a play structure made out of a water tower and painted like a giant fire hydrant for the dog next door. After all, who said inventions had to be serious?

Horace scanned the stone walls lined with tables and shelves stacked with high-tech inventions and mechanical gadgets in various stages of development. What should he work on next?

He nearly set aside the recipe card propped on the computer keyboard, except he hadn't seen the word "urgent" on a recipe before. Horace realized it was a phone message from his cousin, Clement. "Will arrive tomorrow with submarine." 

Horace scratched his chin. What would his space engineer relative be doing with a submarine?

Suddenly, the alarm for the garages began wailing. A glance at the security monitor showed a truck pulling a trailer painted in vivid red and orange careening around the castle had clipped the gutter downspout and set off the alarm. 

A net dropped over the trailer, tangling in a wheel and jerking it sideways. Unfortunately, the truck continued its forward momentum until it also lurched to a stop, now sitting almost side by side with the trailer. 

If Horace didn't know his wife was safely painting in her studio, he would have sworn she was driving the truck. 

He hurried out of his workshop to be sure both truck and driver were okay. 

A tall, lanky man wearing a white shirt and black slacks jumped down from the driver's seat as the truck shuddered to a stop, grinning at Horace. "Hi, Cuz."

A frown creased Horace's forehead as he stared at the argyle suspenders that kept Clement Ainsworth's slacks pulled up into a permanent wedgie. The same suspenders Clement bragged had garnered him a date with the prettiest sorority girl at college some thirty-odd years ago. "But your message said you'd be here tomorrow."

Clement waved away Horace's confusion. "I called yesterday. You need a new secretary."

"My nephew took the message--"

"Like I said, you need a new secretary."

Horace made a mental note to come up with a more efficient way to deliver messages. "Why are you here? This doesn't look like a submarine."

Clement frowned. "Paperwork hold-up. But we can start work without it."

"Work on what?"

After a suspicious look around, Clement dropped his voice to a whisper. "A probe to explore black holes."

Horace also looked around, seeing nothing of danger except his cousin's lack of driving skills. "You mean black holes in space caused by stars burning out?"

"Well, that's the generally accepted theory."

"And do you have a probe in the trailer?"

"Nah. This is a mobile fabrication laboratory." Clement walked to the back of the trailer, stepping over the tangled netting that had captured one of the wheels. "This will make us a working prototype of the probe."

Horace stepped inside the trailer behind his cousin. "What is all this?"

"Laser cutter, CNC machine tools, robotic water jet, a rapid prototyping device--just to name a few. All run by cutting edge computer software."

Horace's hands tingled with the desire to pry open the metal casings on the equipment and see how the machines really worked. "Don't you make anything by hand?"

"You're still living in the dark ages, Horace." Clement laughed again. "No one makes things manually anymore."

Horace squared his shoulders, determined not to let his older, city slicker cousin make him feel inferior the way he had in college. "I do."

Clement's expression turned immediately apologetic, something Horace had rarely seen. "That's why I need you." 

With a deep breath and a frown, Clement looked Horace squarely in the eye. "You're the detail man. You make visions a reality. Others know the theories, but you know how to make them work."

"Um...right." Horace was still a bit off balance and definitely wary of his cousin's change in attitude. For the first time Horace could recall, Clement seemed to appreciate his skills rather than denigrating them. Surely Horace could give the man a chance to explain--and examine these intriguing machines--before Maddie threw Clement off their property. "Tell me what you have in mind."

"Saving the world."

Friday, February 15, 2019

#Friday'sFeaturedTitle #JakBarleyAndTheCaseOfOneDamnedThingAfterAnother


Title: Jak Barley Private Inquisitor, and the Case of One Damned Thing After Another
Author: Dan Ehl
ISBN: 978-1-62420-299-5
Email: kdanehl@yahoo.com

Genre: fantasy
Excerpt Heat Level: 1
Book Heat Level: 1


REVIEW: One Damn Thing After Another

Jak Barley-Private Inquisitor and the Case of One Damned Thing After Another
Rogue Phoenix Press

Jo Ann Hakola, The Book Faerie
5 Stars out of 5

Jak calls himself a Private Inquisitor.  That's like a private eye in our day and age.  His acquaintances call him the ferret.  I don't think that's so bad.  After all, he does ferret things out.  But he hates it!

Mr. Ehl graciously sent me a copy of his book so I could read it for review. It's been published, so you can get a copy now.  

I've read this whole series and always enjoy reading the next one he's conjured.  His writing is fantastical, with creatures out of this world, and Jak just barely getting away from one crisis to another.  The story keeps you glued to the pages, there are puns, jokes, and more in his stories.  I enjoy seeing characters he's met in the past come back to see Jak again.  He needs all the help he can get.

He's got a girlfriend.  She's the witch's daughter and that's dangerous for him.  Lorenzo is around and Jak really needs his skills.  Other characters from the past show up at the right times to keep Jak alive.  What more could you want?

How about vampires who are trying to take over the world?  Or wizard warriors fighting with witches?  How about his girlfriend's mother and father trying to kill each other?  It's all here and it's a good read.

If you like fantasy and enjoy a good fight, you'll love this series.  I've enjoyed each book I've read and look forward to Jak's next adventure.  He just wants an easy life looking for missing persons or proving whose husband is errant but it's not to be.  Poor Jak...


Jo Ann Hakola
The Book Faerie
4225 Harrison St
Las Cruces, NM  88005
http://bookfaerie.com
http://bkfaerie.blogspot.com
http://shelvedtreasures.blogspot.com
Proud Member of IOBA, Independent Online Booksellers Association


TAGLINE


BLURB

Jak Barley, private inquisitor, hates cases involving damned creatures like vampires and zombies, but that's just what he finds himself helplessly in the middle of. Jak has come to hate adventures. He would prefer the boring cases of his earlier years in the profession when dealing with errant husbands or minor pilferings. Still, somehow he finds himself eluding corrupt officials and creatures of the night that want to suck his blood and eat his brains. He does find help in his friend and publisher of the Weekly Tattler, as well as his mysterious friend Lorenzo Spasm from a parallel firmament—one similar to Jak's world in many ways, but devoid of any magic. He also finds support from his girlfriend, Morgana, an apprentice witch.

EXCERPT: One Damn Thing After Another

A guard dressed in the dark blood red of the Shaynee clan was calling to us from the other side of the iron-barred gate. He wore a helmet that reached past his ears and with a T-shaped opening in front, as well as a mail tunic, which seemed like excessive wear for a private guard.
"We have a special delivery for this address," said Lorenzo as he climbed down from the wagon. "I have the order right here."
The guard suspiciously squinted at the parchment and then called to his sergeant. He probably could not read. The sergeant looked it over.
"I have no notice of a shipment today," he said. "You will have to come back after I ask the captain.
"This be a special overnight delivery," Lorenzo replied in a bored voice. "We aren't delivering ham and biscuits from the local eatery. Our order parchment says it has to be delivered within twenty-four hours."
"What be in it?" the sergeant said as he stood on tiptoes trying to see into the back of the wagon.
"Count Dracula."
"What?"
"It says Count Dracula on our work order."
The guard opened a small door within the larger gate and walked to the wagon while cautiously clutching his sword hilt. Our freight was a narrow wooden container the shape of a coffin, which it was.
"I know of no Count Dracula to be visiting the Shaynees," said the sergeant as if it were the most normal thing for company to come calling in a coffin.
"Now sergeant,'" said Lorenzo in a confidential voice of one insider speaking to another, "we know we cannot open this in daylight."
He looked us over. We wore no weapons. The sergeant must have decided the two of us harmless enough when considering the security at the mansion.
"Bring him in, then."
He turned and motioned for the guards to open the gate. We climbed back on the wagon and urged the pair of horses into the enclosure. The sergeant ordered two guards to accompany us. The major two requirements for working picket at the Shaynee estate must have most been size and nastiness. All the guards so far looked like two humans had been shoved into one skin and they were fighting to get out.
"Do not stray from the lane," snickered one of our chaperones. "There are fire drakes patrolling the grounds during the day and the Shaynees keep them half famished. Yah should ah seen what they did to the charwoman last week."
A circle drive in front of the manor boasted a fountain. In the center was a bigger than life statue in white marble. It depicted a skeletal figure with a shrewish grimace and it bore an ancestral resemblance to Bidner Shaynee.
"There's a certain majesty that runs in the family, don't you think?" Lorenzo observed to no one in particular. "Look at that heroic vapid gaze and weak chin that speaks of years of intergenerational breeding that is so common among our illustrious and anemic royalty."
The guards about us shifted nervously at any mention of the vampire family and one seemed relieved when it came time to hop from the wagon and run to the two massive doors where he rapped on a bronze doorknocker. The doors opened to reveal several more guards, these armed with crossbows. Behind them stood a doorman who would have topped seven feet if he had a neck. It looked like someone had chewed off his nose. The two nostril holes were surrounded by a crater of scar tissue.
The doorman belligerently pushed his way through the guards. "What have we here?"
"Count Dracula," replied Lorenzo.
"Count Dracula?"
"That be on the shipping order."
"Who be Count Dracula?
"Hey, I'm just the hauler. My job description doesn't include socializing with my freight. Last week I had to ship Barnabas Collins and let me tell you that was no picnic."
The Shaynee house servant walked to the back of the wagon and examined the coffin. "Bring it in."
Lorenzo looked affronted. "Hey, we are teamsters, not common laborers. It be against guild rules for us to unload the cargo."
The doorman gave a venomous look. "I said bring it in."
"All right, all right, Lurch. Don't get your nose bent out of shape. Oops, sorry about that."
The guards around us froze with fearful looks upon what could be seen of their faces within the helmets. It was obvious they had never heard such backtalk to the freakishly mutilated servant. It be one thing to sass a regular doorman in a fashionable quarter of town such as Vanella's Maxzerum, another to do it at the creepy domicile of the undead. I felt like smacking Lorenzo.
The doorman stood impatiently for a dozen heartbeats. "Then get on with it."
We slid the casket out of the wagon and Lorenzo took the head while I took the foot of the coffin. We followed him into a cavernous room so dimly lit that I could barely make out any details. After several turns through an equally dark hallway the doorman ordered us to lower and open the coffin. I held my breath as a guard unlatched the lid and swung it open. I could feel sweat dribbling from my armpits.


Thursday, February 14, 2019

#MyAngel #HistoricalRomance


My Angel by Christine Young
Excerpt Heat Level: 1
Book Heat Level: 



BLURB: My Angel

A BEAUTY IN BUCKSKINS 
When her father decided to send her to a finishing school back East, Angela Chamberlain refused to be confined to stuffy drawing rooms. Instead, the daring spitfire who could shoot like a man and ride like the wind longed for a life of adventure and romance—and she knew exactly who could give it to her. Devil Blackmoor was a hired gun with a dangerous reputation. But Angela was willing to go to the ends of the earth to capture the handsome devil's heart.

A DEVIL IN DISGUISE 
He'd come to America looking for excitement, but Devil Blackmoor got more than he bargained for when he encountered a beautiful rebel who answered his kisses with a wild innocence that touched his very soul. Yet standing between them were more obstacles than either ever dreamed. For Devil had strapped on a gun for the wrong man. And that made Angela his enemy. Now he'll have to choose between his duty and the woman he loves more than life. 

EXCERPT: My Angel


A polished azure sky looked down on a day that vacillated between winter and spring--a day unable to make up its mind. Cool breezes lifted Angela Chamberlain's brand-new canary yellow skirt off the moisture-laden sidewalk. A blazing hot sun dried the puddles in the street left over from last night's deluge.

Unlike the day, Angela had no trouble making up her mind. Angela knew what she wanted out of life. She touched one finger to the sapphire earrings adorning her newly pierced ears.

She wanted adventure.

She had a terrible craving to see the world--to climb to the top of the Eiffel Tower, to walk the Great Wall of China. She yearned to fly in a hot-air balloon high above the earth, or ride in a gondola in Venice. She wanted to fall in love with a man who was as brave and smart as her father and as dangerous as Devil Blackmoor.

Angela's wish list had no end.

Instead of adventure and romance, in three short weeks she'd be enrolled in Miss Somebody's finishing school for young ladies, where knowing which fork to use was more important than riding with the wind on her favorite horse, Kangee. A place where changing one's clothes three times or more each day was common practice.

Two days ago she'd told her father she didn't want to go.

And two days ago her father had told her she would learn to appreciate the schooling and that she was a very lucky young woman. He'd also promised her a trip to the continent for a graduation present.

A graduation present! She wanted to yell at him, but wisely kept her mouth shut. She wanted to travel now. Today. But more than anything, she didn't want to be confined to the stuffy drawing rooms in the East. Just like her father, she needed freedom. But her father meant to take the choice from her.

To gossip and chatter with rich society women was not her destiny. To know which wine was served with fish would not make her happy. This was his dream for her. Sam Chamberlain needed to look to his own heart and remember the choices he had made twenty-five years ago.

Her destiny was out there somewhere, waiting for her to snap it up and hold the moment close to her heart. She knew what she wanted, and to prove her point, she'd bought a camera and had the machine sent over to the hotel. She meant to photograph all her adventures, every nook and cranny, every monument, every intriguing person.

Across the street and down two blocks, Devil Blackmoor had just taken the saddle off his horse. He brushed the stallion's back, all the while petting the animal's sleek coat and crooning into the horse's ear. Mesmerized, she watched his hands and the gentle way he stroked the horse. 

She wished she had her camera.

Devil Blackmoor commanded her attention. He symbolized everything a father cautioned his daughter to be wary of. Despite the warning, Devil's strong jaw, his powerful shoulders and the confident way he held himself beckoned to every feminine nerve in Angela's body.

Angela clutched her hands to her chest, willing her gaze to shift to something or someone who wouldn't shatter her senses and set her blood boiling. Helpless to control her wayward heart, she kept looking back at Devil. She noticed everything about him, the way he moved, the way his denim jeans clung to his legs and the way they molded to his backside. Devil laughed at something the bouncer from the saloon said, andwhen he smiled, one edge of his mouth tilted crookedly. Ange­la's heart swooned and fluttered, and she thought she might never breathe again.


Wednesday, February 13, 2019

#McKennaClan #BoxedSet #ParanormalRomance


Title: McKenna Clan Series Boxed Set
Author: Christine Young
ISBN: 978-1-62420-280-3

Genre: Paranormal Romance
Excerpt Heat Level: 1
Book Heat Level: 5
Kindle Unlimited

BLURB: Mckenna Clan Boxed set

Catching Meara

Meara Thorton was a feisty, world-class computer hacker—cornered by the FBI and shockingly given the chance to be their newly acquired technical analyst.  Brilliant and intuitive, yet aching with the loss of everyone she has cared about, her restless heart led her to discover a love she fought and a world she didn't know could possibly exist.

Jace McKenna was an enigma, a loner, impossibly handsome, sincere and committed. The Apache shapeshifter blood running through his veins burned hotter than the blistering Sierra Madre sun. Jace knew the moment he caught Meara's scent she was his for eternity.

Delane of Coffee Time Romance & More says:

"Catching Meara is a superbly written mystery that draws readers in and makes them a part of the team. The characters are vivid and provide a perfect canvas for the life of a unique team that catches some truly nasty villains. Ms. Young provides a perfect blend of paranormal, mystery and romance providing the reader an entertaining adventure."
Rating: 4 cups out of 5



Sweet Sexy Sadie

From the first time Sadie’s eyes met those of Brody McKenna in the hot Sierra Madre Mountains, theirs was a potent attraction—not gentle, slow, and easy, but hot, hard, and all-consuming. The daughter of a dysfunctional family, Sadie had dreams no man could wrench from her with hot sex and an all-consuming passion. She’d challenge this alpha male with all the strength she possessed. But her red hair, fiery temperament, and indomitable spirit obsessed Brody...and he knew he had to find a way to show her he was more than he appeared and convince her to make a life with him.




Sweet Misbehavin'

Cast adrift after fleeing the home of Jokul, the ice demon, Atantsi, a firestarter, grew to womanhood as she moved through time to keep the demon from finding her. Though stubborn and courageous, she was ill prepared to use powers she had not been taught. Her first sight of the intoxicating Carr McKenna left her breathless, and her second encounter gave her hope for a future she never thought she had.

A playboy, a second son and a shifter, a man who thought his life would be carefree, Carr McKenna was shocked to discover the woman he’d paid as an escort is a firestarter who is running for her life. He is the leader of all the McKennas around the world and that he has multiple powers. His passion for Margo and the need to defend her might cost him his life as well as hers.

Reviewed by Ashley Ladd, "Happily Ever After"
4 out of 5 stars

Sweet Misbehavin' is a romantic, mystical tale packed with magic, action, and adventure. Romance blooms when Margo, a novice fire starter running from an evil demon meets Carr, a heroic shape shifter. Although Margo has an innate distrust in people, especially in men, Carr gains her trust and convinces her to let him and his clan protect her and her young daughter. Not only does Margo come to know Carr, but comes to know herself, grow her powers, and trust in love again. This is a beautiful story that I heartily recommend reading. Although short, it packs a mighty wallop.

Reviewed by Harps Romance Book Review

I have just finished this book and it was awesome!  Carr McKenna meets Margo on her first night working as an escort to support herself and her young daughter.  Margo is an untrained firestarter so when she gets mad things catch on fire.  She is running for her life from an ice demon named Jokul.  Carr is more than he seems as he is a shapeshifting jaguar.  And he has more powers that he is just learning about. He sees Margo as his life mate when they meet as sparks fly.  Can he save Margo from her stalking demon with the help of his family? Read and find out! I thoroughly enjoyed it.



Sweet Talkin' Sugar

Lyonesse McKenna, was dreaming or was she? From the instant Lyn saw Deacon McClain across a black jack table in a crowed Las Vegas casino the unmistakable attraction sent Lyn’s senses flying into overdrive. Her family of shapeshiters believed in soul mates. She’d always been sceptical yet she couldn’t help but question the way her heart sped when he looked at her.

When Deacon appeared in Las Vegas he knew his first job was to save Lyn from a Sea Demon, but the next order of business was to convince her he would someday mean more to her than she’d ever expected. But her stubborn nature and unbendable spirit consumed Deacon...and he had to chase away all the demons real and imagined in order to win her heart.

EXCERPTS: McKenna Clan Series Boxed Set

Catching Meara

Meara had been seconds from revelation, mere seconds. Now quivering with terror, she huddled in the corner of her electrified office while lights flashed and popped all around her, knowing there was no where to run. Monitors flashed and burst, exploding and sending shards of liquid fire into the air. A cop entered the small room, his arms stretched forward, gun in both hands and a flashlight on top of his gun.

Three more cops followed behind. No, they were government agents. The logo printed in white across their chest announced their profession.

Bright lights swept the room in a slow steady arc, searching for her. Finally resting on her face, she shielded her eyes. Smoke from the crucified computers filled the cubicle, making the agents choke. Sweat from fear beaded on her forehead, and her heart lurched to her throat. She closed her hands over her heart as if she could slow the furious beating.

"Hewitt, check this out. There might be more than this one. Barrister go search through the other rooms."

"Right, McKenna."

"My name is Jace McKenna," the man said as he approached cautiously, kicking debris from under foot until he stood above her. "Put your hands in the air." 

His voice held so much authority and sounded so calm. For a moment she thought he meant to reassure then she remembered she was his prisoner. Well, she would be as soon as she complied with his demands. 

Jace appeared dark, dangerous, handsome and tall, she noted at first. Very tall, which was hard to miss, since she was skinny and short. His eyes were an amber color with a hint of green. He towered over her. Beneath the deceiving bulkiness of his bulletproof vest, she observed next, his shoulders were very broad, and though his hips were lean, his thighs, tightly hugged by his jeans, were muscled and powerful.

His hair was blacker than the midnight sky, nearly indigo with its sheen, his amber eyes were cast into a rugged face that appeared naturally tanned. He was probably somewhere in his late twenties or early thirties. He seemed fierce, alive with a striking tension and a volatile energy that seemed to exude from him.

Shaking, sweat dripping down her face, Meara slowly raised her trembling arms. "D-don't shoot--me, please" She heard the pathetic whimper in her voice as she blinked the stinging sweat from her eyes where it melded with her mascara. Her heart pounded so hard against her chest she was sure it would burst through her ribs.

"Stand up, slowly." He swept the flashlight as well as the gun up and down the length of her body, which had been curled into a tight fetal position.

Rising to her feet, she leaned against the wall behind her, trying to keep her hands up and not fall flat on her face. She wiggled her butt against the wall and inched her way to a standing position. Her life flashed in front of her in a series of leaps and bounds until she saw the faces of her parents. 

"Do as he says," they whispered."Everything will turn out fine. You'll see. We love you." Then, just as they appeared, they vanished.

Their faces faded into the smoke and flashing lights. Her eyes open wide, she gazed at her enemy--her jailor. The man who was here to arrest her. Mind games, or was it mind think that her parents used to play with her, teaching her to communicate through thoughts instead of words. She focused on his brain, sending out feelers, trying to read his thoughts and trying to tell him she was no threat.

The next moment he was beside her, grasping one of her arms, and in one swift move he had turned her, both hands were behind her back and handcuffed. Her breath stopped for a moment. The movement had been so sudden she was thrown against the wall. Her face flattened on the smooth surface. Yet she was glad for that because the impact brought her back to the reality of this moment. Her mind cleared for a brief second. For courage she inhaled a swift deep breath.


Sweet Sexy Sadie

Sadie didn't know what to make of Brody. Exceptionally handsome and charismatic, he'd made her smile the first time she saw him sauntering down the road toward her. Good lord, but he looked as if he owned the world. Tall, tanned from the sun, amber-green eyes that sparkled as if he saw some light humor in everything. He was wiry and sleek; a quickness about him surprised her. His blue-black hair was tied back with a leather thong, his chin angular.

Perhaps he did own this part of the Sierra Madres. His family seemed to own most of this town.

Her research had brought her to this place, Cactus Junction. Now the prospect of getting to know an interesting man would be an added perk. In the bathroom she slipped out of her clothes and into a tepid shower. A few minutes later she emerged squeaky clean and ready for the next part of her adventure.

Unpacking her clothes and taking out her laptop, she opened it. What do explosive experts do? Hmmm....

Why, they blow up things. What would he blow up around here? 

Lord but that sounded crazy to her. Before typing in the necessary info to pull something up on Google, she leaned back, relaxing into her chair. The wallpaper was outdated, and the old fan complimented the air conditioning. She realized she liked the atmosphere.

Enough musing. Mining in the Sierra Madres. Let's see, it says here they mined silver as early as 1521.

Sadie scrolled down the paper. Ok… Montezuma, in 1492, was already drinking hot chocolate from goblets made of gold. Maybe she should be studying this instead of her research thesis. The migration of butterflies. Once she'd thought the topic was romantic. Chasing after butterflies…

So what are they doing now? Junior drilling companies…She wondered if that was what the McKenna Clan was, a junior company. How soon was too soon to ask? Probably not on their first dinner together. Knowledge brought power and she firmly believed everything happened for a reason. Then her chance encounter in this place was not a coincidence.

This says the companies are drilling to find the ore. So… Do they still need explosives? If not, he didn't do much for his day job. Perhaps the family had millions stashed away. At first glance this hotel was theirs and Brody had told her the land this town sat on belonged to them. But millions in the Caymans? Probably not.

She closed her laptop. Then leaning back, she shut her eyes and tried to cleanse her mind of all thought. A little catnap might be in order, but her heartbeat so fast she didn't think sleeping was a plausible scenario. Eager to meet the McKenna Clan and begin her research, her body was wound tight as a rubber band ready to snap.

The bag of chips in her purse seemed to call to her just after her stomach growled its discontent. Trying to ignore the excessive calories and her empty belly, she rose and wandered to the window. Dinner would be that much better if she waited. Outside, the sun still beat down and one could see heat waves decorate the street. 

The air conditioner chose that moment to blow out cold air. Sadie wrapped her arms around herself then turned the monitor down a notch.

Back at the window she looked at the street below. A man walked down the sidewalk, and as he grew closer, he stopped and shielded his eyes then gazed up to her room. Sadie's breath caught in the back of her throat and another chill swept through her. This time it wasn't caused by the air conditioner. The sight of the man sent an eerie feeling to the pit of her stomach. She stepped back in an attempt to remove herself from his line of sight.

The knock startled her away from the window. She jumped, afraid it might be the man she'd just seen but knowing it wasn't.

"Sadie? Sadie, you in there?" Brody called from outside the door. Damn, but she'd recognize his voice anywhere. A smile crossed her face. She meant to forget the stranger.

Sweet Misbehavin

In a sign of unity, they linked arms and strode to Phaedra's room. She picked up the crystal, and walking onto the balcony, Phaedra held the clear orb toward the sun. "Take us to Jokul, wherever he might be." Phaedra began to chant as the crystal seemed to take on a life of its own.

Splinters of sunlight hit the glass ball. The glow surrounding the crystal flowed into and around the girls. The world turned and spun. All the colors of the rainbow wrapped them in a protective tunnel.

Margo closed her eyes against the blinding light, clinging to Phaedra as they hurtled through space. She felt the difference. Time was not changing, only their destination.

In a matter of seconds, they were set down on a ledge of ice. Laughter echoed through the hallway then thunderous booms. Margo motioned to Phaedra to follow her. With caution, they walked toward the sounds. The building they were in shook and the ice columns around them swayed as if they might fall.

"What is it?" Margo felt nausea roll in her stomach. For a moment, she closed her eyes, hoping to understand what was happening and how to deal with it. She tried to remain composed, knowing the ability to think and react in a rational manner would serve her well.

A young girl cowered in a corner, a collar around her neck. Tears flowed down her cheeks. She turned from them when she saw them, her body trembling.

Phaedra knelt beside her. "Are you Jokul's slave?"

The girl looked up, terror clearly written in her eyes and nodded, "yes."

"Where are they? Where is Jokul? And what is he doing?" Margo's impatience grew exponentially. Fear spiraled, yet she forced control of her emotions and tried to remember everything she'd learned.

"Down that hall. He has killed. The big cats didn't have a chance. He is keeping one alive just to torment him." The girl's shaking hand rose from her lap and pointed.

"You'll be fine." Phaedra cupped the girl's cheek with her hand. "I promise. When this is finished, I will come back for you."

The girl didn't say anything. Instead she stared back with a vacant and torn gaze as if she didn't believe Phaedra.

"Jokul will not survive this day. I promise you. You will be set free." At her sides, Margo clenched and unclenched her fists. She meant to do this and suddenly she was no longer terrified of Jokul, his ice or his threats. With each passing second, her courage and confidence grew.

Several heartbeats later, Margo stepped inside the room where the slave girl sent her. The sight caught her breath. Carr's siblings and cousin were frozen ice statues. Relief that Carr wasn't frozen swept through her. Yet fear for him immobilized her for a moment. She watched him leap into the air, avoiding an ice bolt Jokul shot at him.

So consumed with their fight, neither male noticed their entrance to the room. Time was apparently on her side. Before anyone knew she was there, she shot fire at the three guards, their bodies aflame. The inferno lit the room. Then she turned her attention to the demon. Focusing on Jokul's back, she raised her hand, sending fire his way. Seeming to feel the searing heat, he whirled.

Rage lit his face then a smile. "You have come back to me but it is too late." He sent a torpedo of ice her way. Unflinching, she met it with fire. For a second, confusion creased his brows. She saw determination and rage in his face and a moment of confusion.

"You cannot defeat me." More powerful than ever, he sent another wave of ice towards her.

She met ice with fire. "No, Jokul, I'm not an innocent young girl who has no idea how to use her powers. Phaedra has taught me well. Did you think I would always be weak and in your control?"

Rivulets of water from the melting ice ran across the floor. Carr let out a mighty roar and leapt toward Jokul, bringing him down. They rolled on the floor, Jokul caught between Carr's claws.

At the close proximity, Jokul was able to slather Carr in a coat of frost. He broke free, scrambling to his feet and sending a small coating of frost to entomb Carr.

Margo could not risk Carr's life. Yet she remained ready for the battle, waiting for the right moment. Jokul left his mark on Carr once more. Then he rose, his frown growing.

"I will end you, Jokul," Margo said. "There is no other way." Her arms extended, her hands pointing to Jokul, she was poised on the brink of no return. She recalled the spoken words of caution. If she ended his life, there would be repercussions felt around the world. But if she did not, her life as well as the McKenna's would be threatened.

"You're very certain." Jokul's laughter encased her soul and terrified her. Once again, he sent a stream of ice, and once more she melted it with her fire. "You're no longer the weak little girl who fled my care."

"I told you it was so. I am strong, stronger than you because I have love for these people. You have only hatred to guide you." Her heartbeat slowed and assertive energy surged through her.

Phaedra remained behind Margo. "You must finish this. His strength is great. You must strike now before he regains his energy field. You cannot outlast him and you have the others to think of."

Margo tipped her head slightly, noticing how Carr had thrown off the cloak of frost and was stretching his muscles. While she kept her focus on Jokul, Carr looked at her and nodded.

She heard Carr's words in her mind. You have no choice. He means to kill all of us if he survives.


Sweet Talkin' Sugar

In observation mode, he walked through the casino, hands in his pockets, listening and watching, his heart racing. Before the blackjack table at the end of the row, he paused to reflect and decide on a course of action. The air inside was sultry, hot and smoke-filled. He swept one hand through his damp hair, fresh from a summer rain. He forced his mind from the heat and the rancid smell of cigarettes, and with single-minded focus, stared at the table and the cards lying innocuously on the green felt.

The picture of cool calmness, she sat on a bar stool, a drink in hand and cards in the other, her legs crossed provocatively. Her daringly cut emerald V-neck dress didn't leave much to the imagination, but he forced his gaze to the man beyond who stared at her as if he owned her. Every hair on the back of his neck stood on end and a chill slivered down his spine, nerves on edge, muscles tensed. His brows furrowed when the man turned his attention, for one brief moment, his way.

The dealer gave her another card and she tipped one corner up to look at it then let it go. Her body language spoke volumes to him and he wondered if the dealer noticed too. The poker face she so obviously tried for was something she'd never possess.

Deacon McClain paused before settling on a bar stool across the table from her. He waited for the last hand to finish before placing his chips in front of him and nodding to the dealer he was ready to play. His fingers closed around his glass of whiskey as his heart thundered in his chest. She glanced his way, inquisitively cocking her head to one side before slanting him a sexy-as-hell-grin.

The grin sent a message that nearly catapulted him from his seat. Inhaling a deep breath to calm his splintering nerves, he turned his attention back to the cards he'd just been dealt. Not good, not good at all, he motioned for another, then sat back and gazed at Lyonesse. Lyn McKenna, the woman he'd been sent to find and bring home. He'd never believed this gig to be an easy one, but now he felt sure this might be his most difficult assignment of all. Her easy grin sent his heart into a tailspin and her long shapely legs were hard to ignore. What would happen if she gave him her full attention?

He'd lose all sense of perspective and balance.