Liquid Friday with author Reyna Favis

This week we are featuring  fantasy/supernatural suspense  author Reyna Favis and her novel Soul Scent: A Zackie Story.

But before we venture into the Halloween spirit of her supernatural world, lets enjoy a drink that Reyna personally recommends:

The Drink:  Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster

I first encountered this drink reading Douglas Adams’s “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” and I was smitten. It was described as “like having your brains smashed out by a slice of lemon, wrapped ’round a large gold brick.” It has also been described in the novel as “the alcoholic equivalent to a mugging; expensive and bad for the head.” Yum.

Ingredients and Instructions:

Fill a 28-oz. hurricane glass with crushed ice. Add the following in order:

1 oz. Everclear® (The ice should sizzle.)

1 oz. Bacardi® 151

1 oz. apricot-flavored brandy

1 oz. triple sec

1 oz. lemon juice

1 oz. orange juice

1 oz. pineapple juice

1 oz. Tom Collins mix

Stir, then top off the glass with ice. Drink. Slowly.

WOW!  My only comment is that if I were to drink this slowly, I’ll never get to check out Rayna’s book.  So how about grabbing a  Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster, kicking back and relaxing with her book in hand.  Now we can start indulging!

The Book Blurb: 

Troubled psychic Fia leads a double life. As a ground pounder for Search And Rescue, she finds the lost and vulnerable living and brings them to safety. As a servant to an ancient and indifferent Psychopomp, her mission is no less crucial – to help the suffering dead cross over to the afterlife. Her worlds collide after a distraught woman with a gun disappears into the woods and the rescue becomes a body recovery.

When a frantic hammering erupts from the empty SAR team trailer, Fia appeals for help to Cam, irascible Brit, mentor and Psychopomp aficionado. But nothing is what it seems and a straightforward case soon goes sideways. Will Fia and Cam be able to uncover the shocking truth behind the final act of a desperate woman and free her tortured earthbound spirit?

Book Excerpt:

“Can you tell me about the baby?”

Cam lifted a shoulder and then stared at the bottle in his hands. “Not much to tell, really. It was 1975 and I was working a job in Kings Worthy.” Glancing at me, he elaborated. “That’s in England. It’s a very old place. It was listed in the Domesday Book – you know, the survey taken in 1066?”

I bristled a little. “By William the Conqueror after the Norman Conquest. I know. I was a history major, remember?”

Nodding, Cam took up the story again. “Anyway, I was busy trying to lay the ghost of a Victorian clergyman who had taken up residence in the old church. At the same time, there was an archaeological dig taking place in the churchyard. They were interested in the old Anglo-Saxon burials and they eventually unearthed the skeletal remains of a young woman.” He took another drink and affected nonchalance as he continued the story. “Lying between the long bones of her legs, they found the skull of a full-term infant, but the fetal leg bones were still clearly within her pelvic cavity.”

“A coffin birth?” My eyes went wide at this thought.

Cam nodded again. “It happens. A pregnant woman dies and is buried and because of pressure from the gases that build up during decomposition, the dead fetus is expelled from the equally dead mother.” Looking down at his hands again, Cam picked at the label on the bottle. “Anyway, shortly after this find, the cries of a baby could be heard coming from the graveyard. It so disturbed the archaeological team that no one wanted to dig anymore and the work came to a grinding halt.”

“And did it also disturb you? Cam, I can tell this is difficult to talk about.”

Cam rolled his eyes and exhaled deeply, his words were clipped. “Yes, right. It bothered me a great deal. The baby was an innocent and completely blameless, yet she was left to suffer horribly for centuries.”

“But wasn’t the mother with the baby? How did you finally help her to move on?”

“I went into the churchyard with Zackie late one night to find the baby. The mother was nowhere to be found, so I assume she crossed over shortly after her death.”

“She left the baby?” My mouth hung open, aghast at the thought of just taking off and leaving an infant.

“She probably didn’t know the baby remained. In her time, the belief was that unbaptized infants went to Limbo, so in all likelihood, she died assuming that the baby would find its way and be taken care of.” Cam shrugged again. “Who knows? All I know is that earthbound souls of infants are a rarity, so most of the time, they move on with no difficulties. Something went wrong for this one.” Cam frowned as he stared into the middle distance for a beat. “But, you know, as soon as she saw Zackie, she quieted and stopped crying. Getting her to go through the portal was a breeze compared to the clergyman. I had to work another two weeks before the clergyman moved on.”

About Reyna:

REYNA FAVIS holds a Ph.D. in biology and brings a scientist’s critical eye to the unseen world, imposing logical consistency and mechanistic detail to the unexplained. A proud and militant introvert, Reyna exerts her power as mistress of the dark arts of introversion through her blog, Introvert Broadcasting Network. When not writing, she responds to callouts as a canine handler for search and rescue. She lives in Warren County New Jersey with her husband, a search dog and a coterie of pets.

Click on the Social media links to follow Reyna:

 

Liquid Friday for National Breast Cancer Awareness Month

By K.M. Fawcett:

Roses are Pink. Our books are, too. We’re fighting breast cancer, With a little help from you!   Thank you for having me on the blog today!
October is National Breast Cancer Awareness Month and nine paranormal romance, fantasy romance, and sci-fi romance authors (including me, K.M. Fawcett) have banded together to fight against breast cancer with the Future is Pink! project. Ten percent of proceeds from these pink-covered books sold during the month of October will be donated to the National Breast Cancer Foundation <https://www.facebook.com/nationalbreastcancer/?fref=mentions>

Please join us in the fight by reading your way into the future where everything is pink! Alora’s Love Potion by Rosalie Redd Salvation by Lea Kirk Building a Hero by Tasha Black Crazy for Carly by Crystal Dawn Captive by K.M. Fawcett Avenger Mine by T.M. Slay Terran by Cara Bristol Bound by Water by Monica La Porta Not His Werewolf by Annie Nicholas

Click here for more information about the authors, their books, and where you can buy them:

http://www.tashablack.com/pink.html

Why did I join the Pink Project to help raise money for Breast Cancer Research? In 2014 my doctor found a lump in my breast. At first, I was confused. How could there be a lump? I had no family history of breast cancer and no risk factors other than being a woman. Unfortunately, there have been other types of cancers in my family so trying to remain calm until the biopsy results came back proved difficult for this writer with a vivid imagination. I won’t lie. I was scared. When they told me the biopsy was benign, I cried with relief. Unfortunately, not all stories have a happy ending, which is why I chose to join the Future is Pink! project and help raise money for breast cancer research. I am grateful for this opportunity to do a small part in the fight for a cure. Thank you for supporting our project. Together we can make a difference!

Captive (The Survival Race #1)

Abducted and caged with a sexy alpha gladiator claiming to be her mate, officer Addy Dawson must breed warriors for the Survival Race–a deadly blood sport where the last man alive wins. To rebel means torture, or worse. Unwilling to be the beasts their captures desire, Addy and Max risk everything for freedom and soon discover that when they’re together nothing in the universe can stop them.

 

Social Media Links: Website: www.kmfawcett.com Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/km.fawcett Twitter: https://twitter.com/KMFawcett Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6456914.K_M_Fawcett

Bio: K.M. Fawcett is the author of the thrilling sci-fi romance series, The Survival Race, and co-author of the fantasy romance, Beauty and the Curse. She enjoys stories filled with adventure and strong, kick-butt heroes and heroines. Ranked 4th degree black belt in Isshinryu Karate and 3rd degree in Ryukonkai (Okinawan weapons), K.M. and her husband own a karate dojo in NJ. Please visit her on Facebook, Twitter, and at kmfawcett.com.

 

Website: www.kmfawcett.com Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/km.fawcett Twitter: https://twitter.com/KMFawcett Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6456914.K_M_Fawcett

 

Liquid Friday with author Isabella May

This week we are featuring author and co-founder of popular online women’s magazine, The Glass House Girls Isabella May and her debut novel: Oh! What a Pavlova.

But before we dive ourselves in this mind boggling novel, we must hear from Isabella May about her favorite cocktail suggestion for tonight.

The Piña Colada. All too often it’s associated with Del Boy Trotter from Only Fools and Horses, but could a cocktail be more exotic whilst retaining its status as a classic? I’ve yet to come across a contender. 

A well-constructed Piña Colada (think the Waldorf Astoria’s cocktail bar in New York… or more recently, the offering I sampled at La Bulla Bar in Estepona, Spain), should do three things:

1) Harmoniously blend pineapple, Rum and coconut. Optimum balance is key.

2) Be served simply. Less is more… and a plethora of swizzle sticks, tinsel-coated straws, starfruit slices and umbrellas will not cover up poor mixology!

3) Transport me immediately to a lush Caribbean beach.

Oh, look! It’s time for elevenses…

 

And now without further delay lets dive into Oh! What a Pavlova:

 

Blurb:

Kate Clothier is leading a double life: a successful jet-setting businesswoman to the outside world, but behind closed doors, life with Daniel and his volcanic temper is anything but rosy. Some days – heck, make that EVERY day – cake is her only salvation.  Slowly but surely, the cities she visits – and the men she meets – help her to realise there IS a better future. And the ley lines of Glastonbury are certainly doing their best to impart their mystical wisdom… But will she escape before it’s too late?

 

Excerpt:

The Piano Bar was a tradition embedded firmly in the top ten of Corny Things to do in Bologna. Whilst the melange of confection and liquor was a feast for the senses (Steph was already cooing over the Zuccoto Semi-Fredo, mentally noting how she could re-create its perfection), the clientele were mainly tragic, brash or both. For a woman, it was a dodgy place to be. People were packed concertina-tight across the width of the bar, so that for someone as petite as me – and sadly we’re definitely only talking height – it could take several hours to wend your way through the maze of conversations. Bottom pinching wasn’t unheard of, pickpocketing either.

 

But for all that, there was something so compelling about gradually making your way up the stairs, drink in hand, to the famed lounge to feign sophistication whilst something wretched was being hammered out on the keys of the electronic organ, and an overenthusiastic, glitzy, blue-rinsed lady belted out a number from the golden ages, warbling pitifully whenever she hit anything higher than a top E.

As Henry handed me the umpteenth mixer of the evening, I turned a little too quickly, bashing straight into a tall middle-aged man.

“Hey watch it,” he said, flicking drips of liquid marmalade off his rugby shirt.

Oh, okay maybe he wasn’t quite middle-aged. I quickly decided that for a Silver Fox, he wasn’t all that bad looking either.

I felt a sharp tap on my back.

“It’s nearing midnight” said Daisy, as I turned to see my well-meaning colleague had started tapping at her watch as well. “We really ought to head back to the hotel. The morning only heralds Day Two, after all.”

Thanks, Daisy. That was close. I chanced to look over my shoulder, but thankfully he’d gone.

Steph and I followed the advice of our elder, ditched our glasses and turned to say our snappy farewells to the men, who were far too inebriated to understand what our plans were anyway.

“Ah choof off then, why don’tcha?” said Sebastian, at which point I don’t think I’d ever seen him look more like Eton Mess. “Talk about boring… it’s not even officially Thursday yet. Geez guys,” he pointed at Henry and Adrian, “you two really need to train your staff to last the distance.”

We snaked our way to the exit where Silver Fox stood, running his fingers through his hair whilst chatting with a group of men. Something told me – and my pulse – it would be impossible to slip past undetected.

“We meet again,” he said, as I chanced to unsuccessfully squeeze past him, my bust making more than ample contact with his shoulder.

“Hey, I’m so sorry about earlier,” I said with a giggle. “My boss will insist on topping me up every five minutes.” I was too merry to wonder whether that came across as a sexual double entendre.

Silver Fox, amused, seemed to have forgotten the soaking already. And I sensed that all too familiar book-fair-affair-twinge in my stomach as he studied me intently and his grin widened.

“So, I’m guessing you’re a P.B?”

I ignored yet another sharp tap on my back and gave him my ‘excuse me?’ face.

“A Publishing Babe,” he said, laughing cheekily.

Christ, how corny.

“Steph’s managed to hail us a cab, Kate. Time to say goodbye to your friend,” said Daisy, revealing my true identity.

“Well, that’s you told. See you around… Kate,” he said.

“Maybe you will,” I smiled, emphasizing my final word far longer than was necessary as Daisy tugged me out the doorway.

But the fresh air seemed to sober me immediately. As we sped back to the hotel, and Steph and Daisy pondered our four male colleagues’ likely actions over the encroaching hours, I lay my head against the taxi’s window, saddled with remorse.

You can’t keep doing this to him.

 

About Isabella:

Isabella May lives in (mostly) sunny Andalucia, Spain with her husband, daughter and son, creatively inspired by the sea and the mountains. When she isn’t having her cake and eating it, sampling a new cocktail on the beach, or ferrying her children to and from after school activities, she can usually be found writing. As a Co-founder and a former contributing writer for the popular online women’s magazine, The Glass House Girls – she has also been lucky enough to subject the digital world to her other favourite pastimes, travel, the Law of Attraction, and Prince (The Purple One). She has recently become a Book Fairy, and is having lots of fun with her imaginative ‘drops’! Oh! What a Pavlova is her debut novel… and her second novel, The Cocktail Bar, will be published 13th February 2018.

 

You can follow Isabella May on her website and social media here:

www.isabellamayauthor.com

Twitter – @IsabellaMayBks

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/IsabellaMayAuthor/

Instagram – @isabella_may_author

 

Liquid Friday with J.T. Ellison

This week we are featuring J.T. Ellison, a New York Times bestselling author of psychological thrillers and her newest release: Lie to Me.

But before we indulge ourselves in this mind filling novel, we must, just must hear from J.T. Ellison about what is her favorite cocktail for tonight.

Whenever I have something to celebrate, and even
when I don’t, there’s nothing I love more than a
champagne cocktail. Simple, timeless, delicious. It’s
one of my go-to drinks, especially in steamy
summertime.

Champagne Cocktail
(makes 1 champagne flute)

Ingredients:
  • 1 Sugar Cube
  • Bitters
  • Brut Champagne
  • Maraschino Cherry,
    or a Twist
Directions:
  • Place the sugar cube in a chilled champagne flute.
  • (Angostura or Peychaud’s—I like mine soaked,
    YMMV).
  • Fill the glass with brut champagne or another
    bubbly (Cava or Prosecco make excellent CCs!), pop
    in a cherry or a lemon twist, and enjoy. Ching-ching!

So lets kick back and relax with this scrumptious cocktail in hand and finally check out Lie To Me.

Blurb:

Domestic noir at its best. Readers will devour this stunning page turner about the disintegration of a marriage as grief, jealousy, betrayal and murder destroy the facade of the perfect literary couple. New York Times bestselling author J.T. Ellison takes her exceptional writing to a new level with this breakout novel.

They built a life on lies.

Sutton and Ethan Montclair’s idyllic life is not as it appears. They seem made for each other, but the truth is ugly. Consumed by professional and personal betrayals and financial woes, the two both love and hate each other. As tensions mount, Sutton disappears, leaving behind a note saying not to look for her.

Ethan finds himself the target of vicious gossip as friends, family and the media speculate on what really happened to Sutton Montclair. As the police investigate, the lies the couple have been spinning for years quickly unravel. Is Ethan a killer? Is he being set up? Did Sutton hate him enough to kill the child she never wanted and then herself? The path to the answers is full of twists that will leave the reader breathless.

Excerpt:

PROLOGUE
IN WHICH INTRODUCTIONS ARE MADE
You aren’t going to like me very much. Oh, maybe in your weaker moments, you’ll feel sorry for me, and use those feelings of warmth and compassion and insightful understanding to excuse my actions. You’ll say to yourself, “Poor little girl. She couldn’t help herself.” Or, “Can you blame her? After all she’s been through?” Perhaps you’ll even think, “She was born to this. It is not her fault.”
Of course it’s my fault. I chose this path. Yes, I feel as if I have no choice, that I’m driven to do it, that there are voices in my head that push me to the dark side.
But I also know right from wrong. I know good from evil. I may be compelled to ruin the lives in front of me, but
I could walk away if I wanted.
Couldn’t I?
Never mind that. Back to you.
Truly, deep down, you are going to despise me. I am the rot that lives in the floorboards of your house. I am the spider that scuttles away when you shine light in my corner, ever watching, ever waiting. I am the shard of glass
that slits the skin of your bare foot. I am all the bad things that happen to you.
I steal things.
I kill things.
I leave a trail of destruction in my wake that is a sight to behold, wave after wave of hate that will overwhelm you until you sink to the bottom of my miserable little ocean, and once you’ve drowned I will feed on your flesh and turn your bones to dust.
You’re mine now. You are powerless against me. So don’t bother fighting it.
I hope you enjoy the show.

WE FIND A BODY
The body was in the woods off a meandering state road that led into a busy, charming historical downtown. It was completely obscured from view, deeply hidden, under several pine boughs and a thick layer of nature’s detritus. Synthetic clothing was melted to the flesh, making it difficult to tell the body’s race or gender at a glance. Closer investigation showed hair that was long and a curious shade: not blonde, not red, possibly chemically-treated. The left hand held evidence of rings, possibly a wedding set, and so the body was eventually determined as female.

The shroud of melt and bough had not stopped the forever daisy-chain progression of decay. Instar maggots and adult flies delighted in their found treat. A genus party started soon after. Diptera and Coleoptera were evident three days in, paving the way for the coming colonization of Calliphoridae. Though the body was burned beyond ready recognition, the insects didn’t seem to mind; it was simply a barbecue feast to them.

Outside of this natural progression, the body lay undisturbed for two days. Birds of prey flew in long, lazy circles overhead. Cars drove past less than fifty yards away, drivers unknowing, uncaring, that one of their own lay rotting nearby.

Three Days Gone, a stray but severe thunderstorm knocked free several of the funereal branches, allowing the body to be exposed, pelted by hail breaking through the leafy canopy. The heavy rains wet the ground and allowed the body to sink deeper into the muck, where it canted on its side.

Four Days Gone, the body was ravaged by a starving coyote, forty-two razor teeth shredding everything available.

Five Days Gone, the body disarticulated, the fire and the heat and the wet and the insects and the coyote and the natural progression of things breaking it down quickly and without thought to the effects this would have on the loved ones. The idea of a non-intact body was sometimes more than people could take.

Six Days Gone, they found her.

SOMETHING’S MISSING
Franklin, Tennessee
Now
Ethan found the note ten minutes after he rolled out of bed that Tuesday, the Tuesday that would change everything. He came downstairs yawning, scratching his chest, to… nothing. Empty space, devoid of wife.

Sutton always began her morning at the table with a bowl of cereal, a piece of fruit, and a cup of tea and read the paper, scoffing at the innumerable typos—the paper was going under, paying for decent copyediting was the least of their worries. A bowl full of cereal, a glass of milk and a spoon would be laid out for him, the sports page folded neatly by his seat. Always. Always.

But this morning, there was no evidence Sutton had been in the kitchen. No newspaper, no bowl. No wife.

He called for her. There was no answer. He searched through the house. Her bag was in her office, her cellphone, her laptop. Her license was stashed in her small wallet, all her credit cards present and accounted for, a twenty folded in half shoved behind them.

She must have gone for a run.
He felt a spark of pleasure at the thought. Sutton, once, had been a health nut. She’d run or walked or done yoga every day, something physical, something to keep her body moving and in shape. And what a shape—the woman was a knockout, willowy and lithe, strong legs and delicate ankles, tendons tight and gleaming like a thoroughbred. A body she sculpted to match his own, to fit with him.

Ethan Montclair couldn’t have a dog for a wife, no. He needed someone he could trot out at cocktail parties who looked smashing in a little black dress.

And not only looked good, but sounded good. He needed a partner on all levels—physical and intellectual. Maybe it was shallow of him, but he was a good looking man, drew a lot of
attention, and not only did he want his wife to be stunning, he wanted her to be smart, too. And Sutton fit the bill.

He knew they made a powerful, attractive couple. Looks and brains and success, so much success. That was their thing.

After Dashiell, she’d bounced back into shape like the champion racehorse she was, though later, when their world collapsed, she’d become tired and bloated and swollen with medications and depression, and she no longer took any interest in being beautiful and fit.

That she’d decided to start running again gave him hope. So much hope.

Spirits lifted, he went back to the sunny, happy kitchen and got his own bowl, his own milk. Made a pot of tea, whistling. Went for the stevia—no sugar for the healthconscious Montclairs, no, never.

That was when he saw it. Small. White. Lined. Torn from a spiral bound notebook, a Clairefontaine, Sutton’s favorite for the smooth, lovely paper.

This… thing… was incongruous with the rest of their spotless kitchen. Sutton was above all things a pathological neatnik. She’d never just leave something lying about.

All the happiness fled. He knew. He just knew. He’d been all wrong. She hadn’t gone running.

He picked up the note.

Dear Ethan,
I’m sorry to do this to you, but I need some time away. I’ve
been unhappy, you know that. This shouldn’t come as a big
surprise. Forgive me for being a coward. Forgive me, for so
many things.
Don’t look for me.
S

She was gone.
He felt something squeezing in his chest, a pain of sorts, and realized that his heart had just broken. He’d always thought that a stupid, silly term, but now he knew. It could happen, it was happening. He was being torn in two, torn to shreds. No wonder there were rites warning against this
What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder.

God was ripping him apart in punishment, and he deserved it. He deserved it all.

He didn’t cry. There were no tears left for either of them to shed.

He put the note down carefully, as if it were a bomb that might go off with the wrong touch. Went to their bedroom. Nothing seemed out of place. Her brush, her makeup case, her toothbrush, all lined up carefully on the marble. Her suitcase was in the closet.

He went back downstairs to her office, at the back of the house. Doubled checked.
Her laptop was on her desk.
Her cellphone was in the charger.
Her purse was on the floor next to her chair.
Her wallet inside, the smiling DMV photo that made her look like a model.
Like a zombie, he moved back to the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and got out the milk. Poured cereal in the bowl. Dropped the stevia into his tea. Sat at the empty table, stared at the spot where his wife’s head should have been.

What was he supposed to do now? Where could she be? He ran through the possibilities, the places she loved, discarding one after another. Surely he was wrong in his thinking. Surely she’d simply run away, to one of her friends. That’s where she’d gone. Should he call Ivy and see if Sutton was camped in her kitchen, instead of his? Should he give her some time, and space, like she asked?

She left without her things, Ethan. Sutton’s lifelines are her laptop and phone. It’s her office, her world.

A dawning realization. Sutton hadn’t shaken the depression, not completely. She was still prone to fits of melancholy. She might have done something stupid, crazy. She’d tried once before, after… Oh, God. Her words. Perhaps she was telling him exactly what she’d done.
I’m a coward. Forgive me. Don’t look for me.
He threw the bowl of cereal across the room.
“Bloody fucking hell. You selfish, heartless bitch.”

About J.T. Ellison:

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author J.T. Ellison writes standalone domestic noir and psychological thriller series, the latter starring Nashville Homicide Lt. Taylor Jackson and medical examiner Dr. Samantha Owens, and pens the international thriller series “A Brit in the FBI” with #1 New York Times bestselling author Catherine Coulter. Cohost of the EMMY Award-winning literary television show A Word on Words, Ellison lives in Nashville with her husband and twin kittens.
Follow J.T. online at Facebook.com/JTEllison14, on Twitter @thrillerchick, or on Instagram @jt_thrillerchick for more insight into her wicked imagination.

Praise
“[An] exceptional domestic thriller from bestseller Ellison… this standalone may be Ellison’s best work to date.”
—★ Publishers Weekly, starred review

“Wonderful … a one-more-chapter, don’t-eat-dinner, stay-up-late sensation.”
—Lee Child, #1 New York Times bestselling author of NO MIDDLE NAME

“Fans of GONE GIRL will gobble up this thriller about a marriage from hell, which moves at a blazing-fast pace and smoothly negotiates more twists and turns than the backroads of Tennessee. J.T. Ellison will keep you guessing every step of the way to the surprise ending!”
—Lisa Scottoline, New York Times bestselling author of ONE PERFECT LIE

“LIE TO ME twists you up, throws you into nail-biting action and unexpected revelations. Belt yourself in for this roller coaster ride.”
—Catherine Coulter, #1 New York Times bestselling author of ENIGMA

“LIE TO ME brilliantly combines a domestic noir thriller with a searing portrait of two writers trapped in a web of lies, betrayals, and murder. Sharply written and masterfully plotted, full of  hard truths about the creative life and modern marriage, Ellison has written her finest novel—a breakout page-turner certain to win her a wide audience.”
—Jeff Abbott, New York Times bestselling author of BLAME

“A wickedly good thriller about a picture-perfect marriage that is anything but, LIE TO ME has it all: murder, lies and betrayal. J.T. Ellison will have readers hanging onto the edge of their seats with her latest cunning tale.”
—Mary Kubica, New York Times bestselling author of EVERY LAST LIE

“Secrets, secrets, who has more secrets? Writers or wives? With more surprises than a kitchen sink casserole, in LIE TO ME, J.T. Ellison lets us in on what goes on behind the closed doors of both.”
—Helen Ellis, New York Times bestselling author of AMERICAN HOUSEWIFE

“Ellison knows how to deliver gripping psychological suspense… Appearances can be deceiving, but Ellison’s writing is not.”
—Library Journal

“…An astonishing and satisfying ending that makes for a fantastic reading experience.”
—RT Book Reviews

“[An] immensely readable domestic thriller… lush prose.”
—Booklist

Liquid Friday with author Laci Paige

This week we are featuring author Laci Paige and her erotic novel Silken Edge.

But before we reach out for her new work of fiction let us find out what does Laci suggest for our readers this Friday night?

I’m a self professed chocoholic, so a chocolate martini is my pick for that very reason. And who doesn’t love a martini glass? I think they’re sexy and sophisticated.”

Ingredients:

1.5 oz. cream de cacao

1.5 oz. chocolate Liqueur

2.5 oz. half-and-half

.75 oz. vodka

1 cup of ice

Combine chocolate liqueur, cream de cacao, vodka, half-and-half, and ice in a cocktail shaker. Cover and shake until chilled. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

For an indulgent finishing touch, drizzle chocolate syrup around the inside of your martini glass before pouring.

Synopsis:

The relationship was over long before it ended, so when her boyfriend dumps her, Kristy craves a change in life. Kristy’s best friend, Sherry, is into the BDSM scene, and on a whim and a bet, Kristy finds herself in the playroom at an exclusive club. A disguised Dom named Master Jay uses sensation play and a piece of silk to help her discover the world of kink. She finds it enjoyable and addictive, but what she doesn’t know is that Master Jay is really Jake, a much younger man to whom she’s strongly attracted.

For the past couple of years, Jake quietly watched Kristy in his gym. He doesn’t care that she’s older than him; he wants her. When the virgin BDSM sub he’s hired to train ends up being Kristy, Jake almost falls apart. During the scene they play at the club, he fantasizes about getting her into restraints in his own playroom. But Kristy is shocked when she learns that the two men she desires are one and the same. Can Kristy who’s led a vanilla sex life, and Jake, who knows nothing but kink, find a future together?

A note from the author:
BDSM is variable; it’s not black and white, it’s not always deep and dark. It’s whatever the participants want it to be, it’s individual, and there is no “right” way to do it – as long as it’s SSC (safe/sane/consensual).
I’ve done my research and have adapted kink into my personal life as a result. I’ve been to clubs, private play parties, demonstrations, forums, workshops, conventions, and conferences on the subject of kink/BDSM.
Don’t let what you think you know about the lifestyle, or what you’ve read in novels affect your thoughts on the subject. Be open-minded.

Excerpt from The Silken Edge:

Jake pulled a key from his shorts and unlocked the new lock on his personal gym. Once inside, he kicked the door closed and turned on the lights. He looked around his room at the special-order gym equipment sporting cuffs and chains. His two favorite pastimes rolled into one–a gym of pleasure and pain. Despite the room being finished for several months now, he’d never shared this special place with anyone, and loneliness gnawed at him.

He dropped his head with a sigh. His plan had been to wait and tell Kristy that he was a paid Top, but only when the time was right. It shouldn’t have happened the way it did. “Fuck it, fuck this, and fuck her.” He closed his eyes and moaned. “God, I’d like to fuck her, and fuck her hard.” He snatched his iPod off a shelf and shoved the earbuds in. Cranking the music up loud, he walked to the mirrored wall and grabbed a set of hand weights. Closing his eyes, he began his repetitions in sync with the music.

When he opened his eyes, the mirror reflected someone behind him. He gasped. The door must not have closed behind him.

Standing just inside the door was Kristy, wide-eyed and looking around the room.

He put the weights down and turned, then leaned against the shelf and looked at her directly. Her hair was in a messy bun on top of her head, she wore a long, cotton T-shirt, and it appeared she had no pants to speak of underneath. At least he couldn’t see any. Aw, hell.

When she looked his way, he took a step in her direction, but then she took a step back. He stopped and took out his earbuds. “Is everything okay, Kristy?” His voice sounded soft and gentle to his own ears.

“I-I couldn’t sleep.”

“Do you want to go somewhere and talk?”

She shook her head and pulled her gaze from him to scan the room. Walking slowly around, she eyed each piece of equipment, ending up at an assortment of whips, canes, floggers, and paddles all lined up neatly in a recessed cove in the wall.

Jake didn’t move, unsure why she was there. He expected her to run at any time, but she didn’t.

She walked up to him and stood a few feet away, not making eye contact. Shifting from foot to foot, she asked, “So, this is your special gym?”

“Yes,” he whispered. “You’re the first to see it.”

She finally raised her head and looked directly into his eyes.

Holy shit. He thought he saw several things flash through them, but he was convinced the predominant one was need. His dick twitched and he slammed his eyes shut. Opening them, he saw her watching him. He clenched his jaw and relaxed it to speak. “Kristy, what is it? Did you want to talk to me about something? Are you planning to move out? Because, damn…you don’t have to, but I’ll tear up the rental agreement. And if you want to cancel your membership downstairs that’s fine too, I will waive the cancellation fee for you…if you want.”

“Jake, no. I don’t want to move out. I have nowhere else to go.” Looking down, she took a deep breath. “And if it’s all right, I want to keep my membership.” She peered up through her eyelashes.

“You do?” He couldn’t help the surprise in his voice.

“Yes, and I’m the one who should be sorry. After a nap, I woke up realizing how badly I behaved. I’m sorry. I felt blindsided; everyone was in on it except for me. I felt stupid and embarrassed. In the club…I thought you were a stranger, but you’re not a stranger, you’re my friend, and I didn’t handle the situation well.” Her cheeks pinked up. “It’s awkward for me.”

Out of everything she said, the word “friend” rang loudest in his ears. There was nothing more of a dampener on the libido than hearing the word “friend” from someone you find attractive. He turned and walked to the door. Holding it open, he said, “Kristy, I’m glad you’re staying, really I am, but you need to leave. Now.” His voice came out husky.

If she didn’t leave soon, he couldn’t be held accountable for what he’d do to her, and he’d enjoy every minute.

About the author:

When Laci’s not reading or writing, she can be found with her husband supporting their two teenaged children in a thing called life. Or maybe she’s running around with her camera taking photos while camping and/or hiking. Or lastly, and most probable – the TV is on in the background while she’s perusing her social media sites. Their family resides in the state of Virginia where Laci’s muse keeps her up late at night.

Website: http://www.authorlacipaige.com

Workshop Submissions for 2018 Liberty States Fiction Writers Conference

We are very pleased to announce that it is now possible to submit workshop proposals for the 2018 Liberty States Fiction Writers Conference.

You can submit your proposal at: http://www.libertystatesfictionwriters.com/workshopsubmissions/

We are looking for workshops related to writing, the readers’ track, and a young adult track geared toward younger writers.  The writing and young adult workshops can be about craft, author wellness, the business of writing, promotion, self-publishing, etc.  The readers’ panels can be either fun and games or workshops intended to bring readers into the mind of the author.

Looking forward to seeing your proposals.  Feel free to forward this email to other writing groups and friends.

Registration for the conference is tentatively scheduled to open on September 1.  The room block will be open before that date and we will provide additional information on room rates, etc. at that time.

Thank you!

Featuring Caridad Pineiro book cover reveal for One Summer Night

I am pleased to feature a great author and friend Caridad Pineiro on my blog.  Here is her newest book One Summer Night from the At the Shore series.

Blurb:

Maggie Sinclair has tried everything to save her family’s business. Her options are dwindling, and she needs someone who can turn things around—fast. Problem is, the only person who can help her is trouble with a capital T. The Sinclair and Pierce families have been feuding for nearly 30 years, but that hasn’t stopped Jax Pierce from noticing Maggie. And he likes what he sees—a lot. But getting involved would mean risking his family, his inheritance, and above all, his heart. Can Maggie and Jax keep their simmering attraction at bay—or will mixing business and pleasure bring nothing but heartache?

Excerpt:

With keen interest, Owen Pierce took note of the three women as they hurried away from the dais and into the Sinclair mansion.

“Put your eyes back in your head, Bro. She’s nothing but trouble,” Jon warned in low tones.

Owen bit back the retort that if anyone knew about trouble, it was his brother. Jonathan had always marched to a different drummer and had set out on his own as a teenager to explore what he wanted out of life. Now a successful entrepreneur, he had captured the media’s attention with his innovative designs and daring adventures. That left Owen to shoulder most of the burden of the family’s real estate business, as well as deal with his father’s anger over Jonathan’s latest newsworthy escapade.

He envied his brother’s carefree spirit and determination, especially as Maggie Sinclair marched back onto the patio with her friends, an angry bride, and an obviously inebriated groom. Both the bride and groom looked far from happy as they approached the elaborate multi-tiered wedding cake that had been wheeled out to the middle of the makeshift dance floor.

He worried the bride might plunge the long knife she held into her new husband, but luckily for the newlyweds, Maggie directed the blade toward the cake.

Jon playfully elbowed him. “Seriously, Owen. She’s not for you. Father declared the Sinclairs off-limits ages ago. He would have a stroke if he thought the two of you were involved.”

Involved with Maggie Sinclair, Owen thought and sighed with regret.

In a way, he’d been involved with her forever. He’d like to chalk it all up to a sloppy, hurried, and stolen kiss at eighteen and the allure of forbidden fruit. But since that kiss, he’d watched her mature into a smart, beautiful woman. One who was willing to work hard for the town and business she cared about as well as friends and family. With every encounter, he’d grown more intrigued with the person Maggie had become.

But his father had come down hard on them about mingling with the Sinclairs right after Maggie’s mother’s death. For years, they’d been unable to come to their Sea Kiss home, and even when they’d returned, they’d done so without their father, who refused to be so close to the family he thought had wronged him.

Not that Owen expected that Jon would kowtow to such rules, since his brother was the kind of man who didn’t hesitate to take what he wanted.

He arched a brow and met his brother’s blue-eyed gaze, which glittered with a mix of undisguised challenge and amusement. “Do you think you’re the only one entitled to a little adventure in your life?” he said.

Jon chuckled. “My kind of adventure is way safer than what you may be considering.”

“Why’s that, Li’l Bro?” he asked, appreciating the sight of Maggie in a dusty-rose gown that hugged dangerous curves. Her chestnut-brown hair fell to her shoulders in soft waves and framed ice-blue eyes and a sassy, sexy face that snared his attention every time he saw her.

Jonathan took a last sip of his champagne and barely stifled another laugh. With a shake of his head, he replied, “Because all I risk is an occasional broken bone, but that…”  He jerked his head in Maggie’s direction as she stepped back beside Connie and Emma.  “That will break your heart.”

Behind the Scenes Tidbits for the At the Shore Series:

At the Shore Series Trailer:

Purchase Links (click any of them):

Amazon Kindle,   Amazon Paperback,  B&N,  iBooks,  Kobo: Coming Soon!

Caridad Bio:

 Caridad Pineiro is a transplanted Long Island girl who has fallen in love with pork roll and the Jersey Shore, but still can’t get the hang of tomato pies. When Caridad isn’t taking long strolls along the boardwalk to maintain her sanity and burn off that pork roll, she’s also a NY Times and USA Today bestselling author with over a million books sold worldwide. Caridad is passionate about writing and helping others explore and develop their skills as writers. She is a founding member of the Liberty States Fiction Writers and has presented workshops at the RT Book Club Convention, Romance Writers of America National Conference as well as various writing organizations throughout the country. You can connect with Caridad at www.caridad.com. You can also find Caridad on:

Twitter at https://twitter.com/caridadpineiro
Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/Caridad.Author
Pinterest at http://pinterest.com/caridadpineiro/
Goodreads at https://www.goodreads.com/Caridad_Pineiro

Want to receive Caridad’s newsletter with exclusive content just for subscribers and special giveaways? Just visit http://bit.ly/2cbxlYw to sign up. Caridad values your privacy and will not share your e-mail or personal information.

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