Title: Books Aren’t Just For Reading
Author: Laina Turner
Genre: Cozy mystery/chick lit
Trixie and her friends, Berklie and Sophie, are excited about the opening of Read/Wine their new business venture of a bookstore/wine bar. All is going well until they happen to find a dead body in the shop and that wasn’t part of the business plan. All signs pointed to Berklie since it was her ex-husbands lover who was murdered. Trixie knew Berklie hadn’t murdered Sylvia so who did?
As a child Laina thought she would either be a truck driver (thanks to Jerry Reed in Smokey and the Bandit) or work at Taco Bell (her favorite restaurant as a child). As she grew older she realized her talents lay in academics and business and for the last several years has been a business consultant and college professor where she uses the analytical side of her brain and not the side that makes up stories.
Through all her career choices she has continued to have a passion for writing. This stemmed from childhood whereas an only child she developed a vivid imagination spending most of her time making things up and thinking the Incredible Hulk lived in her closet.
Proud of her vast experiences in life from barrel racing to being on the dance team for a semi pro basketball team to being a mom of 2 amazing kids, she tells her family and friends that no one is safe from their escapades slipping in to her books.
Taking the plunge to write books that she actually lets people read in 2010, she has worked her way up to having 5 fans (maybe 6 now). Her blog, The Art Of Living Fabulously, was launched to share the daily fun in the life of a Real Housewife of the Midwest along with the musing of other fabulous ladies.
Author’s Website: www.lainaturner.com
Working for Lucifer is the best job in the universe, until the day it’s not. Then you’re on your own, with Hell at your heels.
Ava, Sin of Greed, has had a rough week. The angel she planned to make a life with left her with nothing but a Dear Jane letter. Even worse, Lucifer believes she spilled Hell’s secrets to her ex, and her boss’s temper is notoriously apocalyptic.
For centuries, Dante kept his feelings for Ava under lock-and-key. The one time he pursued something more, he nearly lost her for good. Lesson learned. However, when he hears of her planned elopement, all bets are off. Not having Ava was a reality he could accept. Losing her to an angel is something else entirely.
Now, Ava, once Hell’s golden child, is fleeing for her life. When her old friend Dante shows up, her first instinct is to send him packing. But Dante is more than a friend—he’s the only other man who tempted her, and his fierce loyalty challenges everything she thought she knew about him. As Ava prepares to battle the devil himself, she can’t keep from getting closer to Dante…though she doubts her heart can survive another break.
Someone thumped her on the shoulder and sent her spiraling out of her thoughts. A jolt rushed through her body and everything went on autopilot. Ava jumped to her feet, formed a fist, and landed a blind punch in less than three seconds. It took another ten seconds for her scattered mind to piece together what had just occurred, and by then she was staring into an all-too familiar pair of crystal blue eyes.
Ava blinked. Hard. “Dante?”
“Fucking hell,” he cursed, cradling his nose and scowling at her. “What’d you do that for?”
“What the hell were you sneaking up on me for?”
“I didn’t sneak!”
Ava looked around, then waved a hand. “This is a graveyard, Dante. In the middle of the night in Nowheresville. You don’t just…I dunno, touch someone. You let someone know you’re there.”
“And here I thought getting your attention would do that just fine.”
“Not like that!”
“Next time I’ll read the fucking rule book.” Dante dropped his hands and sniffed. A small fleck of blood colored the space between his nose and lips, but other than looking a little swollen, he seemed otherwise undamaged. “If this is the way you greet your friends, it’s no small wonder the whole of Hades is after your sorry ass.”
Ava’s shoulders dropped and she rolled her head back, a long groan riding off her lips. “You know about that?”
“What other reason would I have to be… Where the fuck are we?”
Dante offered a dramatic sigh, though something in his eyes told her he’d only asked for show. Even at his drunkest, he wasn’t the sort to forget what state he was in.
“Mississippi,” he muttered. “So that’s what that smell is.”
On the other hand… Ava straightened her spine and arched an eyebrow at him. “So…what? You come out here to make fun of the locals?”
“No,” he replied coolly, wiping the stray speck of blood off his otherwise pale, pristine skin. “I came here for you.”
Everything in her stilled. Though she’d heard him the first time, the words had a way of really sinking in upon repetition. As though it took a time delay for her to realize there was no reason aside from her current problem that Dante should be out here with her—or here at all. He wasn’t the sort of guy to crash in antebellum tourist traps.
“You came here for me,” she echoed. “Why?”
He shrugged a shoulder, his face blanking the way it did when he wanted to appear blasé. “Why not?”
“Thought you could use a friend.”
Ava stared at him a moment longer, then sighed heavily and tore her gaze to the ground. Yeah, she supposed she could use a friend. Or a whole army of them. And though Dante wasn’t the first person she would have called, she couldn’t deny she was happy to see him.
Not that his presence answered her questions. If anything, he added to the pile.
“I take it Merle gave you the message,” she murmured. “About…”
“The angel?” One perfect eyebrow arched. Actually, there wasn’t much about Dante that wasn’t perfect. Physically, at least. One of his most annoying qualities also happened to be his most prized. There was nothing worse than a man who knew just how damn good he looked.
Truly, Dante had always seemed a bit too perfect when it came to the male form. He was only a few inches taller than she and had a body built for debauchery, complete with strong arms and a marble-carved chest. Tonight, he was wrapped in a snug pair of jeans and a form-fitting long-sleeved navy tee, which made his pale skin seem paler. His hair was coal black and his eyes sparkled blue. Ava had always loved his eyes.
And thinking about his perfect eyes right now on the cusp of a broken heart while all of Hell nipped her heels was probably the last in a very long line of bad ideas. At once she felt overtly vulnerable, exposed. Standing in a strange town under strange circumstances with him, her oldest friend, seeming one part savior and one part…pissed.
Nothing in her world made sense right now. Dante had just muddied things up even more.
“Yeah,” she said when she remembered to speak. “The angel. Merle told you.”
Dante nodded solemnly. “That was the plan, right?”
Ava released a shaky breath, her mind spinning so fast it was a small wonder she remained standing. Looking at Dante now with everything that had happened in the past week still heavy on her heart, with the uncertainty of her future, took her suddenly oddly-shaped world and turned it on its head. She felt like she was living in the funhouse mirror version of her reality. Sebastian, then the Binsfeld Six, and now her vampire.
At some point she had to wake up.
“What are you doing here?” she asked again. “Do you have any idea what’s going on?”
“Not much,” he admitted, stepping forward.
There was something guarded in his gaze, and so help her if she started analyzing every little look from Dante, she would lose her mind. Trying to figure out what he was doing here was work enough.
He nodded. “Just that you were out here. And you could use a friend.”
This admission did little to answer her questions. Her friendship with Dante was not a secret, by any means, yet she couldn’t speculate as to why anyone right now would decide to throw her a lifeline. Being alone certainly hadn’t done much for her…yet there was a good reason she hadn’t gone to Dante in the first place.
Dante was the kind of friend who was there for the good times and gone for the bad. At least in her experience. If he had any idea what was really going on, he’d make tracks. The large, cartoonish kind.
But Dante didn’t know. Hell, he didn’t even know what she was. His knowledge beyond his own kind was rather limited, and while his experience with others of Lilith’s children left him with a relatively grounded understanding of how the world worked, certain things—like Hell and all its residents—remained more or less relegated to the realm of other. He was aware Hell existed, sure, and had figured her for a demon early in their relationship, but otherwise boasted little knowledge of Lucifer or the pit beyond what was assumed through myth.
Seven centuries and he had no idea she was part of that myth. She’d never mentioned it, and he likely hadn’t thought to ask. His perception of her role had been established on the legs of their meeting, which, as it was, had been entirely accidental. It just so happened she didn’t like watching anyone, demon or otherwise, suffer at the hands of holy men, and in saving Dante’s life all those years ago, she’d earned a permanent ally.
Well, until now. Her own brand of permanence was about to run out, and of course Dante wouldn’t know why. If she explained the significance of what had occurred with Sebastian, and how limited her future was, he would be gone. She wouldn’t know to miss him.
Still, she owed him explanations. Dante was the one loose end she had—the only one who wouldn’t know why she was gone when Lucifer finally came to collect her life. Her siblings knew what was coming. Dante was the last person to whom to pay her regards.
Perhaps that was why someone had sent him to her. So she could do right by her one earthly friend and say goodbye.
“I could,” Ava admitted softly. “Use a friend. I’m glad you’re here.”
A shadow crossed Dante’s face. “That’s not good.”
She frowned. “What? That I’m glad you’re here?”
“Yeah. You’re never glad I’m near these days.” He laughed shortly. “You must really be into some deep shit.”
“You have no idea.”
“All this over an angel.”
The corner of Ava’s mouth pulled into a grin, and for a moment she felt somewhat like her old self. “More or less.”
“An angel, Ava. For fuck’s sake, what happened to your dignity?”
“Where were you three weeks ago?”
“I dunno, but if I’d known you were gonna be falling for one of those winged assholes, you’d better believe I’d have dropped everything to beat some sense into you.”
She snickered. “Like you could take me.”
“You never give me the chance to try,” he retorted, his eyes gleaming.
“Your ego is too fragile to handle getting your ass handed to you by a girl.”
“So you’ve told me. And told me. And told me. You know what they say about words and actions, don’t you, love?”
A small thrill raced down her spine, her insides igniting with heat and a rush of good old-fashioned nostalgia. “Wanna grab a beer?” she asked. “Or, you know, a burger? I don’t think I’ve eaten in a week.” She paused, then waved at him. “You can consider it the last meal of a condemned man.”
“‘Cause you’re gonna kick my ass, right?”
“That’s the plan.”
Dante grinned ear-to-ear. “Thought you’d never ask.”
Continue Lance & Lisa’s Turbulent Passion, in Book Two of the Flyboy Trilogy
Captain Lance Miller has finally discovered and captured the Goddess of his dreams. Life is everything he ever dreamt it could be and more. He is a Captain with International Air, Owner of an Italian Winery, and Master to his beautiful Miss Lisa Price. But, life can never be this good for very long, right?
Lance brought down his walls and shared his heart. He threw away his manwhore tendencies. He’s been faithful. Lance’s life should be fabulous and it is until he watches all of his dreams crash and burn in front of his horrified eyes.
Flight Attendant Lisa Price has found her Prince Charming; granted he is nothing like she imagined he would be. He is an egotistical playboy who is controlling, demanding, hypnotic, charming, plus downright desirable, gorgeous, and steamy hot! Who could ask for more?
Lisa’s Flyboy has introduced her to her wild, uninhibited side; a side that is eager to discover new adventures inside and outside the bedroom. Lisa’s life is unfolding in front of her beautifully, until she discovers a secret. A secret she desperately needs to share with Lance, but will fate allow her to reveal her secret to the only man who has ever truly owned her heart?
G.L. Ross is a proud, sixth generation, native Texan. As a true Southern Belle, G.L. has always dreamt of the “happily ever after,” the prince riding in on the white horse sweeping her off her feet. She hasn’t found “Prince Charming” – yet (always an optimist) – but finds him every time she writes about her characters’ “happily ever after” endings.
Her motto in life is to “always find the good” in every person and situation. Whether through laughter, prayer, or a glass of wine or vodka, G.L. finds the good in life and shares her sense of humor, love, and adventure in her stories. Take flight with Lance & Lisa in Turbulent Passion, and continue their turbulent journey in Burning Desire, book two in the Flyboy Trilogy
Blurb: Adventures of a sexy seductress.
“I’m not your average monster. In the past, I have toppled, liberated, and even ruled kingdoms. Believe me, I’m over that lifestyle. My motto is, ‘Learn from the past; love in the present’.
“By day, I’m Catalina Purdy, proprietor of Purdy Antiques. By night, under cover of darkness, I expose my true nature.
“I enjoy; long walks on the beach, candlelit dinners, easy men, and feasting off the chemicals they produce when sexually aroused.
“I also love my job. I am eternally thirsty for the chance to hunt down rare, exotic pieces. However, I’m not hard to please, I’ll take any piece I can get, and I always get what I want.”
Reader Advisory: Be forewarned, the story within, contains X-rated tales of Nightlings, naughty escapades.
Excerpt: Now, I know exactly what you’re thinking, “Not another vampire.” Yes, all the signs are there, but I adamantly refute the title. I am a Nightling. Not any insignificant Nightling though. I am Catalina, Queen of the Nightlings. Still confused? It’s easy to understand why. Fangs, bloodsucking, power, and ageless beauty. Yes, I possess all the telltale signs of your classic vamp. Alas, I am not one of those adrenaline-sucking egomaniacs.
So, what exactly is a Nightling, you ask? Over the centuries we have been called many names. Succubus, Lorelei, seductress, mantrap, siren, enchantress, lady of the night, the list goes on and on. Any of those ring a bell? Let me explain.
The realm of bloodsuckers is not as black and white as the world has always thought. To be truthful, besides our choice of chemical needs, we are quite alike. Let me break it down so there is absolutely no confusion.
I am an ancient creature. I was born as I am. Others have been made, but not me. I have fangs that retract, which are capable of extracting the hormone oxytocin from the human bloodstream. My razor-sharp fangs work two ways. First, they extract the hormones I need to survive, and second, they pump back in the blood you will most definitely need. However, I have complete control as to whether I give back the fundamental fluid. I usually do. Usually.
Oxytocin is the hormone that is secreted when the body feels pleasure, arousal, or passion. Enter the succubus. The hormone keeps me strong, fed, and eternally beautiful. On the other hand, vamps extract adrenaline from their victims, which is why they use fear to extract the chemicals they need. And yes, they have the power to return the human blood as well, but they are a grumpier sort of monster.
Death does not come easy to either of us. Light, crosses, and holy water are completely useless. However, garlic does taint the blood, and vamps say it inhibits the manufacturing of adrenaline. I think they just like to whine about anything they can.
As far as I know, death only comes from dismemberment. However, my bones are as strong as steel, and my skin like marble. You really have to piss off one of your own kind to get killed. I generally try to avoid such situations. The phrase, “I’m a lover not a fighter” was originally coined by me.
J. Lee Roberts spends her time between the majestic Hawaiian Islands and the soft, rolling foot hills of Central California. She loves dancing and experiencing live music. She spends her days tinkering in her garden, where she grows an abundance of fruit, vegetables and fragrant flowers. She spends her nights snuggling with her hunky, blue-eyed partner.
When not dancing, gardening or snuggling, J. Lee enjoys spending time with the girls. Anything can happen at a girls night; naughty photo, poker tournaments, and the occasional solstice celebration are just some of the crazy things they get up to on a girls night out.
Catalina, Queen of the Nightlings, Volume 1: Cleopatra’s Pearls is the first in a long line of tales, involving a sexy seductress, who just can’t be satisfied. J. Lee Roberts is also in the process of Finishing her first, full-length thriller, The Cross.
Her contact Information Is: http://luminositypublishing.com/product/catalina-queen-of-the-nightlings/
The wedding is four months away, and Ethan has promised to train Sam to handle a planned honeymoon activity. He’s calculated the math to figure out her goals each week. When she reaches the weekly target she gets a massage and lots of fun orgasms. But if she doesn’t, it’s the stainless steel cane.
All this along with navigating her clients’ drama, planning a wedding, dealing with her mother while planning the wedding, and having lots and lots of wild and kinky sex.
And we haven’t even mentioned the bachelorette party.
Warning: This title contains graphic language, consensual BDSM some may find objectionable, anal sex, bondage, and the use of toys including crops, clips, clamps, plugs, and gags.
Sam looked at the ring on her finger and her knees went weak. Again.
She wasn’t worried about marrying Ethan so much as freaking out about how ideal her life seemed to be. Did anyone get their idea of a perfect life for long before something came along to screw with it?
As a divorce attorney, she’d seen enough ‘happily ever after’ stories go horribly wrong to know there were no guarantees she and Ethan would live out their lives in blissful harmony. But she knew marriages survived — her parents and Ethan’s parents were proof.
Panicking never solved anything, nor did focusing on the negative, so she took a deep breath and reminded herself they were starting better than most couples, and had a really good chance of making it work. They both communicated when there were issues, and both were willing to compromise when needed. As long as they kept up the communication, they should be fine. Theoretically.
“What’s going through your head? You’re supposed to look happy when you stare at the ring on your finger.”
Her gaze flew to Ethan’s and she smiled. “I’m just thinking. You know I’m happy, right? I wouldn’t have said yes if I didn’t think we could make it work. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I’m just…”
Ethan let the silence weigh heavily for several long moments, as if he were seeing if she’d finish. He finally said, “I think the worst choice of career for a fiancée has to be divorce attorney. If someone had told me a year ago I’d be engaged to one I’d have told them they were crazy.” He shook his head and added, “But you aren’t the average divorce attorney. You aren’t the average anything, and it’s part of why I love you so much.” He brushed a loose strand of hair away from her face. “Still, it has to be hard, watching the end of relationships that likely started out with such promise.”
“Yes,” Sam nodded, relieved he understood without getting his feelings hurt, “but I think it’s also given me a window into the type of people who are bad marriage material, and you don’t fit the bill,” she said as she poked his chest with her pointer finger. “You’re honest, you’re a good communicator, you hold yourself responsible for your actions, and you’re considerate of other’s feelings. We’ve only known each other five months, but…” She shook her head. “You know what? I don’t want to talk about that right now. I want to hear more about your plans for, ummm, preparing me for our honeymoon.”
Ethan eyed her a moment before saying, “Five months and three weeks, which rounds up to six months. As for your training, I’d planned to give you the basic outline tonight. I’ve ordered a few things that should be here Thursday or Friday, so we’ll begin the training Friday evening. I intended to email you some things to read before I explain the process, but we can talk it over instead, if you’d like.”
“Yeah. I’d like.” Sam rolled her eyes. “That’s why said I wanted to hear it.”
Her insides warmed and her stomach threatened to flip-flop as Ethan’s eyebrows rose, but they weren’t in a scene at the moment so he couldn’t punish her for being a smart-ass. Thank goodness.
He relaxed his eyebrows as he flashed a quick smirk — he knew his look had affected her, but didn’t comment and easily carried on with their conversation. “You’re an athlete with good flexibility and probably already know most of what I’m about to tell you, but I’m going to detail it anyway to be sure you correlate what you know about flexibility with anal training.”
She put it together in her head, talking as she thought. “Yeah, the rectum is a strong muscle, so stretching should be like….Oh.”
Ethan smiled. “All stretching will happen from Friday evening through Sunday. I’ll expect you to be able to handle the next size up on Sunday without difficulty, and then keep yourself accustomed to the new size throughout the week so you’ll be prepared to be stretched again Friday evening.”
“You aren’t expecting me to wear a plug at work, are you?”
“Of course not,” he said with a smile and a quick shake of his head. “During the week you’ll be required to insert the training tool four times a day for a total of forty-five minutes per day, at least two hours apart, with a minimum of five minutes per insertion. This means you can have it in for thirty minutes once, and five minutes three times. Or for twenty minutes once, five minutes once, and ten minutes the other two times.” He paused a beat before adding, “When necessary, you’ll have the option of reducing it to three times a day, though your total time will increase to one hour. You’ll need to clear it with me if you want to alter the schedule more than twice a week, though.”
Sam thought it through; she could do it in the morning before work, and then at around 5:30, 7:30, and 9:30 in the evenings. If she had to wear it for five minutes on a lunch break she probably could, to knock out one of the evening times. He’d said this was during the week, though. Her gaze rose to his eyes. “And on the weekend?”
His smile was maybe just a little too gleeful. “We’ll be together on the weekends, and you’ll be required to submit as often and as long as I say.”
Sam’s insides flared to life. He could set her on fire just by changing his tone of voice, but — remembering his smirk from earlier — she worked hard to keep her face and body relaxed as she said, “You just asked me to marry you yesterday, when did you order the… stuff?”
“Last night after you went to sleep, and I paid extra for expedited shipping.”
Neither of them said anything for a few seconds and he pulled an exam glove and a small bottle of lube from his pocket. “Strip and get on the bed; knees and shoulders, with your arms spread to the side.”
Her pulse jumped to life as his tone of voice changed and her body anticipated the promise of a scene.
Ethan stretched the glove over his large hand while she stripped. His deep voice kept a steady tone as he said, “I’ll be using gloves to finger you, and all the toys and tools will be smooth. I intend to prepare you for my size and length, but I don’t want you accustomed to friction. Nothing in the next four months will give the motion of having your ass fucked. You won’t feel my flesh in your ass, not even fingers, until our honeymoon.”
About the Author:
Candace Blevins is a southern girl who loves to travel the world.
She lives with her husband of 16 years and their two daughters. When not working or driving kids all over the place she can be found reading, writing, meditating, or swimming.
Candace writes romance books about strong women who happen to be submissive, and in some cases have some pretty extreme kinks. Relationships can be difficult enough without throwing power exchange into the mix, and her books show characters who care enough about each other to fight to make the relationship work.
You can visit her on the web at candaceblevins.com, and feel free to friend her on Facebook at facebook.com/candacesblevins, and Goodreads at goodreads.com/CandaceBlevins.
Since becoming oracle to the demivampire two years ago, advice columnist Sophie has battled werewolves and survived a vampire attack (or two). However, not only was she powerless to save her lover Marek when he slipped to the brink of evolution, she also witnessed his transformation into a falcon, the symbol of Horus United.
Sophie’s quest to save Marek is further complicated when rock star Dierk Adeluf – who also happens to be the king of the Werekind – invites her backstage after a concert. Just when it seems she will find respite from heartache, Sophie is bitten by a werewolf and Dierk decides she is destined to be his queen.
Sophie is caught between the demivamps she loves and the Were who commands her to love him. Throw in his jealous wanna-be girlfriend—a true bitch if ever there was one—and an ambush by witches, and there you have the big mess that Sophie calls her life. And, hello? Her soul mate is still a bird.
She’s supposed to be the girl with all the answers, but Sophie needs more than a little advice–she needs divine intervention.
About the Author:
Ash Krafton writes from the heart…of the Pennsylvania coal region, that is.
She is the author of the Books of the Demimonde (Pink Narcissus Press).
BLEEDING HEARTS (Demimonde #1) is a six-time RWA finalist and was voted “Reviewer Top Pick” by Gravetells.com. Ash continues the story of Sophie and her Demivampires in her latest release BLOOD RUSH (Demimonde #2). She’s hard at work (when she isn’t watching Doctor Who) writing the third book, WOLF’S BANE.
Ash Krafton’s poetry and short fiction has appeared in several journals, including Niteblade, Bete Noire, Abandoned Towers, and Silver Blade. She’s a member of Pennwriters, RWA, and Maryland Writers Association. She lurks near her blog and contributes to the QueryTracker blog.
Ash lives with her family and their German Shepherd dog deep in the Pennsylvania wilds, awaiting the day the TARDIS appears in the driveway (the dog most likely keeps the Doctor away. What a beast.)
Until then, she writes.
Find Ash at:
1 Demimonde gift pack contains a print book, tote bag, note pad, pens, swag, and a gift card.
Winner can choose between any one of the three print books in the series.
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