Stories for the Young and the Young At Heart!

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Monday, September 22, 2014

Sizzling PR presents Fat Girl by Leigh Carron

Fat Girl by Leigh Carron Genre: 
Romance (Contemporary, Steamy, Adult Content)

lc-fg-cover-front-large  


 
About Fat Girl: Years after fleeing small-town Springvale, Illinois, Deanna Chase has picked up the pieces of her shattered heart and built a new life for herself as a child advocacy lawyer. Her food addiction is quasi under control, her secrets are buried, and she has even made a tenuous peace with her plus-size body. Until…
Micah Peters—the very sexy and now famous man she fled— walks through her office door and sends Dee reeling. His demand that she help a young boy caught in a custody battle will reunite her with the past she left behind. 
Torn between duty and self-preservation, Dee isn’t easy to convince. But when obligation wins, the former lovers get more than they bargained for—a searing passion that burns hotter than ever and startling revelations about what really happened the fateful night she left.
Will the truth set Dee free to love again? Or will past hurts and lingering insecurities destine her to walk away from her heart again, this time for good?
Fat Girl is the first book in this provocative two-part series about love and self-acceptance.


Excerpt  
My friend, Jordyn had said there are two kinds of men: the gentle surf and the tidal wave. I knew exactly what she meant. The gentle surf is safe and steady. It lazily rocks boats on breezy days and placidly laps against the shore on cool nights. It’s relaxing, comforting, and lulls you to sleep.
There’s nothing steady or relaxing about a tidal wave. There is no easy float, no predictable crest. It’s wild and exhilarating. It rips through your resistance, crashes up against your heart, and leaves you breathless.
Yet it can also crush you under its power, and you won’t even see the destruction coming until you’re drowning in it.
Micah Peters was my tidal wave.




Fat Girl is the first book in this provocative two-part series about love and self-acceptance.

Now available at Amazon.com/Kobo/Smashwords

Praise for Fat Girl
An addictive, steamy read.” —Wynne Channing, best-selling author
This is one of those books that sucks you in and keeps your interest until the very end.” —Jodie's W.I.N.E. List
This was a refreshing, real story that had me captivated from the first page. Dee and Mick were wonderful characters full of real flaws, real strengths and real passion.” — Beth S
A brilliantly written, steamy, sexy, thought-provokingly wonderful novel.” — Olivia P
A MUST READ!!!” — Christine K


About Me: An American living in Canada. Chocolate snob. Recovering yo-yo dieter. Devoted mom and wife, blessed with a brilliantly witty daughter and unintentionally humorous husband. My wacky family feed my creativity and fuel my passion. Most nights, you will find me either curled up with a great book or, more often, sitting at my computer, tapping out the countless visions in my head.
To me, there is nothing better in a narrative than perfectly flawed but strong characters and intense romance that is sexy, deep, and sensual. Mm…I liken such stories to a box of Godiva. Decadent and delicious! You can’t stop at just one. In fact, I’m now hard at work on my next novel—A Naked Beauty, the conclusion to Fat Girl.

Stay Connected at:
Twitter:@LeighCarron


Giveaway: An ecopy of Fat Girl at each stop, and four tour prizes: 1) A signed paperback copy of Fat Girl , bookmark, and $20 Visa gift card, 2) a $15 Amazon gift card, 3) $10 Body Shop gift card, and 4) $10 Starbucks gift card.



 a Rafflecopter giveaway


  Presentation1

Why I Used the “F Word” in my Book Title - FAT!
It has the power to hurt. To influence. To shame. We associate the word with being unhealthy…unattractive…unlovable…unwanted. Undesirable. I remember the first time I was called fat. I also remember the feeling. Mortified. I was only nine, walking home from school in my blue shorts and striped t-shirt, fighting the tears, refusing to let the group of boys see how impacted I was by their name calling. Sticks and stones is nice in theory, but it doesn’t really work. Words can and do hurt.

Over the years, the term fat stuck to me like a leech, sucking out my self-esteem. It wasn’t just the boys; it was the way I came to see myself. It’s the way many women who don’t fit the “ideal” see themselves, too.

Fat Girl was born as a catharsis of sorts. Finally getting to a better place where on a good day I like who I am, I needed to tell Dee’s story. And I needed to keep it real. Dee is successful in her professional life, but her personal life is weighed down (pun intended) by that fat girl who lives inside her. It’s the relentless voice that says she’s not good enough, not skinny enough, not perfect enough.

So while Fat Girl is a sexy romance about former lovers, it’s also about Dee’s journey toward self-acceptance. There is no one size that makes us beautiful, lovable or desirable. We are all deserving. All worthwhile.

Friday, September 19, 2014

Angela Quarles and her book, Must Love Breeches!

MUST LOVE BREECHES



Blurb
She's finally met the man of her dreams. There's only one problem: he lives in a different century.

"A fresh, charming new voice" – New York Times bestselling author Tessa Dare

HOW FAR WOULD YOU TRAVEL FOR LOVE?

A mysterious artifact zaps Isabelle Rochon to pre-Victorian England, but before she understands the card case’s significance a thief steals it. Now she must find the artifact, navigate the pitfalls of a stiffly polite London, keep her time-traveling origins a secret, and resist her growing attraction to Lord Montagu, the Vicious Viscount so hot, he curls her toes.

To Lord Montagu nothing makes more sense than keeping his distance from the strange but lovely Colonial. However, when his scheme for revenge reaches a stalemate, he convinces Isabelle to masquerade as his fiancée. What he did not bargain on is being drawn to her intellectually as well as physically.

Lord Montagu’s now constant presence overthrows her equilibrium and her common sense. Isabelle thought all she wanted was to return home, but as passion flares between them, she must decide when her true home—as well as her heart—lies.



Excerpt

A reenactment ball was the perfect setting for romance. Or not.
Isabelle Rochon fidgeted in her oddly-shaped-but-oh-so-accurate ball gown, surrounded by women who’d sacrificed historical authenticity for sex appeal. Red carpet ball gowns in the nineteenth century, really? Once again she was like the dorky kid participating in dress-up day at school when everyone else had magically decided it was lame.
“Gah. I feel like a green robot with strange battle armor.” Isabelle pointed to her dark green dress, the shoulders flaring out almost to a point, exaggerating their width. “What were the fashionistas in 1834 thinking?”
“I have no bloody idea.” Jocelyn squeezed the poof of fabric at her shoulder. “These huge-ass sleeves are ridiculous.”
“Ah, screw it, we’re having fun, right? I’m not going to self-sabotage the ball. Not after all the time I spent obsessing over my costume.”
“And obsessing over the etiquette rules.”
“That too.” Besides, how fun was it to learn Jocelyn shared her obsession with guys in period clothes and bodice-ripper romances?
Isabelle eyed a guy strolling past in tight-fitting, buff-colored pantaloons. She pitched her voice to be heard over the string quartet. “Hmm. How about the clothes on that daring derriere?”
Jocelyn sucked on her olive and plopped the empty stir stick into her martini. “Oh, yes. Definitely a breech-ripper.”
Isabelle choked on her Bellini, the champagne fizz tickling her throat and nose. This was the first opportunity they’d had to socialize outside work, so she treated this moment delicately, afraid to puncture the mood. No need to point out he sported pantaloons, not breeches.
She should ease up on the drink, though. She didn’t want to get plastered at the Thirty-fourth Annual Prancing Through History Reenactment Ball. Especially since her new colleagues would be around. And her boss. She needed to impress him.
“Look lively,” Jocelyn said, her voice low, with a dollop of teasing. “Here comes the office hottie.”
She’d been cultivating a mild crush on Andrew since starting her new job at the British Museum six months ago. The whole situation was perfect. A guy in the same field would respect her interests, wouldn’t expect her to give up her profession for a relationship. He was safe. If it worked out, great, if not, no biggie. She was happy, finally, with how her life was working out.
She’d pictured him in period clothing before, looking resplendent.
He did.
“Hi, Andrew.” Her voice came out a little too high. Jeez, could she sound any more like a lovesick fool? She always did this around gorgeous men—went ga-ga as if she couldn’t rub two brain cells together. She gazed around the Duke of Chelmsford’s newly renovated ballroom and pretended as if her breath hadn’t quickened and her body hadn’t heated at the sight of Andrew.
“Hello, Isabelle. Jocelyn.” Andrew nodded. His smile felt like a gift for her alone.
Her pulse throbbed. He’d sought her out. Play it cool. Say something witty. “So, uh, having fun yet?” Having fun yet?
Something, or someone, in the crowd hogged his attention. She followed his gaze until she found it. Or rather him. Their boss at the bar.
Andrew faced her and the remnants of calculation on his hot-as-heck features disappeared behind his over-bright grin.
He leaned closer.
The artificial tang of his cologne drifted her way. She wrinkled her nose.
“Well done on the Whittaker exhibit. Finding that journal was a bit of a coup. It’ll be a fine addition to the exhibit, once it’s built.”
He’d noticed. She’d worked damn hard. “Thank you.” Why couldn’t Brits find her Southern accent as sexy as she found theirs?
“Glad you came across the pond to work with us. That find should put you in the running for the promotion.”
Good. The promotion would mean she could stay in London. Well, it would make staying easier. No matter what, she was determined to remain.
“Of course, you’ll have to beat me out.”
Cold clarity hit her stomach like accidentally gulping a glass of iced gin instead of iced water, jolting her from her usual foray into Incoherent Land around attractive guys. “You’re applying too?” Of course he was.
“Without a doubt. Career changer and all. I’m a shoo-in. Sure you still want to apply?”
Could she scrub the smug look off his face? She settled for the less satisfactory, but more controlled, “Yes.”
Now catching her boss’s attention was more important than ever. Besides wanting to escape into another era, she’d also hoped her costume would impress him. She glanced at the wet bar. Drat. Where had her boss gone?
Andrew slipped his hand around her elbow, pulling her closer. “How about we ditch this party and grab a pint? You and me.” He ignored Jocelyn, who stared back and forth between them.
It all made sense—his sudden interest after dismissing her for months, the calculation she’d caught when he’d turned back—he thought he’d intimidate and charm her into giving up the position.
She yanked her arm free, saying, “Fat chance, you smarmy horndog,” which cut through the room because, of course, the music had just ended.
Jocelyn snorted her drink, eyes watering, and coughed, fighting to catch her breath. For a moment, her coughing was the only sound punctuating the silence.
The curious eyes of the onlookers made Isabelle feel as if a huge moat had sprung up around her. The moat of Beware, All Ye Who Enter—Idiot in the Center. If one of those eyes were her boss…
Andrew trotted out his grin, the one that used to make her insides hum. “Thought we had a connection. No?” He backed away, hands up, eyes locked with hers in a you’re-such-a-fool stare, his heels snapping on the marble floor with each backward step. “Cheers, then, babe. May the best man win.” He nodded and sauntered off.
Jocelyn, bless her, completely ignored the Moat of Embarrassment and stepped to Isabelle’s side. “How had we never noticed what an ass he was?”
“Probably because we were too busy drooling?”
“There is that.”
“Seriously, I should just go pound my head against the nearest vertical object and repeat one hundred times, ‘When will I learn?’”
“Just be careful not to poke out your eye with those lethal shoulder sleeves.”
“Ha.” But Jocelyn’s dry humor softened Isabelle’s mood. “Can’t believe he expects me to just roll over. I have to get the promotion, I need the security. No way am I going to sacrifice my dream to be with a guy, I don’t care how hot he is.”
Never again would she let a jerk encased in good-looking skin influence her life. Been there. Done that. Have the gold-stitched Fool’s cap.


 Book Info


Must Love Breeches
Time Travel Romance
Release Date: Sep 3 2014
Length: Novel (98,000 words)
Ebook Price: $4.99 (Pre-order price $3.99)
ISBN: 978-0-9905400-0-7
Content advisory: Adult language, explicit sex

Book Links

Amazon (universal): http://bit.ly/MustLoveBreeches
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/MLBGR
Must Love Breeches board on Pinterest:
http://bit.ly/1qCPKcy
Official Book Page: http://bit.ly/MLBBook



Bio 

Angela is a geek girl romance writer. What makes her romances geeky? Whether it's fan girling over Ada Lovelace by having her as a secondary character in Must Love Breeches, or outright geek references with geek types in her romantic comedy with paranormal elements, Beer and Groping in Las Vegas, or going all Southern steampunk in Steam Me Up, Rawley, she likes to have fun with her romances and hopes her readers do too.

Angela works at an independent bookstore and lives in an historic house in the beautiful and quirky town of Mobile, AL. When she's not writing, she enjoys the usual stuff like gardening, reading, hanging out, eating, drinking, chasing squirrels out of the walls and creating the occasional knitted scarf. She's had a varied career, including website programming and directing a small local history museum, and has discovered that writing allows her to explore all her interests.

She has a B.A. in Anthropology and International Studies with a minor in German from Emory University, and a Masters in Heritage Preservation from Georgia State University. She was an exchange student to Finland in high school and studied abroad in Vienna one summer in college.


Author Links

Join my mailing list: http://bit.ly/1sde3Qi
Paranormal Unbound, the group blog I belong to: http://bit.ly/1sdaIRa


Wednesday, September 17, 2014

At What Price?

At What Price?    
99 cents


Katherine Gardner is awakened at 6:30 in the morning with a call from a strange woman who claims to have her granddaughter, Rio. This woman is calling the police if Katherine doesn’t make arrangements for somebody to pick this little girl up.

Katherine is a fifty-six years old woman and all alone, since her husband died over three years ago. Her life takes a dramatic turn when six-year old Rio comes to stay with her. Rio is a scared little girl whose life is filled with uncertainty and fear. 

In her grandmother, Rio finds a safe haven and an unconditional love that she has never known in her six short years and Katherine has found a love to fill the void that has been absent for way too long.

Unfortunately Katherine’s daughter, who deserted Rio, has other ideas.




When she first came to live with me, Rio was a frightened little girl who cringed at every loud noise. She chewed on her fingernails and was terrified to sleep by herself. After two weeks had gone by without hearing from Lacey, I decided school was in order.
We went to the school and, after explaining the situation, I was able to fill out the paperwork.  Rio seemed excited about the prospect, but when it was time to take her to class, she was as pale as a hen’s egg and had a death grip on my hand. The fear in her eyes was heartbreaking. I gave some flimsy excuse about school already being in session for the day so we would start fresh tomorrow.
            The receptionist said, “It won’t be easier tomorrow. I can assure you, she will be perfectly fine if you allow us to take her to class now.”
            This bitch had no heart. “I’m aware and thank you for your concern. We will be back tomorrow.”
I took Rio to the store to buy school supplies and a few new dresses, but she seemed to retreat back to the scared little girl I found in the plane.
            At dinner, I talked about the new friends she would meet and all the stuff she would learn in first grade. I was babbling about riding the school bus when she interrupted me.
“Mimi?” she whispered, “where will I go next time if nobody picks me up from school?” She bit her lip, as if to keep it from quivering, and her eyes seemed to fill her entire face.
I pulled my chair next to hers and ran my hand down her mass of tangled curls, physically hurting for my granddaughter. “Rio, as long as you are with me, I will pick you up – always! That’s a promise. I love you and you will always be safe with me.”
The next day, except for normal “first day school jitters”, Rio walked right into class.




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Saturday, September 13, 2014

Happy Anniversary Star-Spangled Banner!



Sept 13 is the 200 anniversary of America's Star-Spangled Banner. Do your students know who or why Francis Scott Key was even involved? Do they know he was on a rescue mission or who he was trying to rescue? Do they know who the President was and why he was not residing in the White House at the time? Do they know which famous battle was taking place when Francis Scott Key penned this famous poem that turned into our National Anthem? History and I were not friends in school so I didn't know any of the above. 

In Bumped Back In Time, Sammy (Samantha) Brown gets a bump on the head and learns the answers to all these questions when she finds herself face to face with Francis Scott Key, himself. Though the story is fiction based, the premise of the story is complete with facts. It is quite a story in American history.




Blurb
Sammy Brown, winner of the first junior sailing regatta for kids, ages twelve to fourteen, is walking on air Tuesday, after being absent the previous day, due to the race.  Miss Wickware, her history teacher, asks Sammy to stay after class because she needs to draw a subject out of a box and give an oral report on the drawn subject.

“UHG”  History and Sammy are not friends, but her good mood won’t be dampened until a fall and a bump on the head sends her back to 1814.  It’s her expertise in sailing that helps Francis Scott Key rescue an imprisoned friend from a British ship that leads to a historic battle and a famous poem!

Excerpt
“Don’t be afraid, child. I am Dr. Beanes, and these are my friends, Dr. William
Hill and Phillip Weems. We were on our way to my home. My wife, Sarah, can
help you.”

“Forget, it!” Sammy shouted, hysteria bubbling up in her voice. “I’m not some
moron that would just blindly goes off with three weird men, especially two that
dress like my mom in shorty pants and foo foo blouses and the third one dressed
like some fancy, shmancy bell hop!”

“What’s a bell hop?” Beanes asked under his breath to nobody in particular.

Meeks was plainly taken back by her comment, while Dr. Hill blustered, “Foo
foo, indeed!”

When Dr. Beanes recovered, he reminded his friends of her possible
concussion. “Let’s all calm down. Now look…what is your name?”

She leveled her gaze at the three men before answering. “Sammy Brown.”

“Sammy?” the three men echoed in unison.

Even in her fear and confusion, that response got her back up. She stood as tall
as she could raising her chin in the air. “Yea…Sammy.”

“Where is your home, Sammy?”

She searched her unfamiliar surroundings and swallowed hard. “Nineteen West
Glenrosa.”

“That’s odd,” Beanes said, looking at his friends. “You must be on the other
side of the Patuxent River.”

A tear slipped down Sammy’s cheek. “There’s no river or lake by that name in
Phoenix.” Her lower lip trembled, dreading his next statement.

The kindly doctor took her hand in his. “My dear girl, I’m sorry to say I have
never heard of Phoenix. We are in Upper Marlboro, Maryland.”

* * * *

Because of The Star-Spangled Banner having its 200th year anniversary, Bumped Back In Time has been reduced to 99 cents until September 13! More than half off!   
 
Bumped Back In Time Book 4 of The Wickware Sagas.  Take a look at



Thursday, September 11, 2014

Kay Lalone presents her wonderful story, Ghostly Clues






Blurb
The sweet scent of lilacs permeates the air around Grandma’s gravesite. Only Sarah Kay can smell Grandma’s favorite flower, and they’re not even in bloom. 
Sarah Kay and her best friend, Mary Jane, believe the lilacs are a sign from Grandma’s ghost. The girls follow one ghostly clue after another, uncovering a secret that Mom never wanted Sarah Kay to know.
Grandma makes sure Sarah Kay gets the message even from the grave.


Excerpt
The house was blanketed in a quiet slumber. I snuggled under the sleeping bag with Allison, trying not to think about ghosts, as I drifted to sleep.
Random pictures floated in my mind like ghostly images.
I tiptoed among tombstones and my heart ached as if I had lost something or someone. He had to be here, somewhere. The gravestones rose like stone walls. No names engraved on them. No dates. No R.I.P. Nothing. Just smooth, flat stones. Ghosts—grayish, smoky forms with black eyes—floated over the tombstones.  I shivered, suddenly cold, freezing. My breath visible like a little ghost. I didn’t want to look at the ghost anymore so I looked down at my feet. A tombstone with Grandma’s name appeared out of nowhere. The earth moved. The dirt around the headstone broke away and gnarled fingers clawed their way into the air, searching, grasping. Shriveled fingers clutched my leg. 
 
Something grabbed at my leg—the hand, I screamed and frantically wiggled out of my sleeping bag, bumping MJ as I tried to get away from the hand I thought I felt grab at my leg.



Bio
I’m Kay LaLone. Ghostly Clues is my first middle grade novel published by MuseItUp. I live in Michigan with my husband and teenage son (two older sons and a daughter-in-law live nearby) and two dogs and a cat. I love to get up every morning and write about ghosts, the paranormal, and things that go bump in the night. I write PB, MG and YA novels. No matter the books I write, I want my readers to feel like they have met a new friend. I’m an avid reader of just about any type of book (mystery, paranormal, and ghost stories are my favorite). I do reviews and post them on my website and blog. I love to collect old books, antiques, and collectibles. You can find many of my antiques and collectibles selling on ebay and at fleamarkets. 

Website www.kaylalone.weebly.com
Links
Amazon


Friday, September 5, 2014

Mickie Sherwood and her wonderful story, Cherished Moments

Cherished Moments 

Senator Jordan Dupré is reluctant to revisit her past. That thought crumbles at the sight of Deacon Burke. His commanding presence and charming smile transports her back to her youth. Back then, she kissed, loved, lied, and left him—taking a life-changing secret with her.
Scorned by Jordan’s dishonesty, Deke swears he never wants to see her lying face again. However, his heart knows better, and he never stops thinking of her. When Jordan’s husband is killed, Deke is summoned to the Senator’s aid, by an unlikely source—Unfortunately, he brings a secret of his own.
Will secrets from their past reignite their cherished moments?
 
Price: $2.99
Excerpt:
On the parking lot, a still Louisiana breeze wafted soothingly over Jordan’s shoulders, yet an eerie feeling shook her insides. Taking in her surroundings, she noticed that the parking lot was completely dark. She couldn’t see the pole where the security light should have burned. The entire scene was odd and eerie.
"Goodness. What happened to the light?" Jordan bolstered her courage to proceed. She pressed the button on the key fob to open the car locks.
After opening the door, she tossed her precious hatbox onto the back seat, then leaned forward to lay the folder on the floor. Something was wrong, and her skin crawled in warning.
When Jordan stood, she shoved her hand into her purse, and then closed her fingers around a protective device. She shut the door, and it slammed like thunder in the quiet of the night.
Hearing a strange noise, Jordan realized she wasn’t alone. The smell of cheap cologne, and stale cigarette smoke permeated her nose. In response, she turned her head to seek out the source.
A medium build man hovered at the rear of her car, and stood near the trunk. With a black leather cap turned backwards, the man was dressed in a dark, oversized tee shirt, and black jeans. As if driven by anger, he huffed, each breath filling the air with his labored breath. Before Jordan could gather her wits, the man rushed toward her.
The man wasn’t the only one with a surprise. Jordan took a step, then squeezed the trigger on her Taser. He howled loudly, as the lead must have found its mark. However, that charge didn’t deter him. With his hand around her throat, Jordan was in an honest-to-God struggle for her life.
Choking from a lack of oxygen, Jordan knew the man would not have the upper hand if she remained calm. No matter what defensive tactic she used, nothing seemed to work. She’d been overpowered.
"Pay up," he threatened, "or else your slutty past hits the Internet."
Will Jordan outlive her past? Or pay with her life?

Tell me, readers. What do you think?

Thursday, September 4, 2014

Brynna Curry and her fabulous book, Earth Enchanted



Writer Liv Corrigan has the worst luck with men -- her telepathy tends to make them run for the hills. When she meets widower and ex-cop Jack Roarke, she decides to keep her talent hidden. Things are looking up until their third date crashes and burns as the man who murdered Jack’s wife turns out to be after him too.

Injured, Jack retreats with Liv to his house under armed guard. But with Liv’s mysteries rapidly coming unraveled, a diamond-thief killer to stop and passion in the air, the safe house is anything but safe for their hearts!


 
No light reached here in the bowels of the city. The air was thick with the stench of garbage, smoke, and prostitution for those lovely people who didn’t care enough to rent a room.

Summer heat in northern Alabama, the thermometer had been bursting at 103 degrees by noon, made the smell walk like a living thing. Sissy passed her penlight beam over the building’s brick wall. Graffiti announced the sort of things one human being could do to another. ‘Mickey,’ Jack’s informant, always showed on the signal, but not this time. He had a gut feeling to grab his wife, turn and run as hard and fast as he could. The premonition flashed through him dark and heavy.
Copper, the raw taste of fear, slid over his tongue. Both drew, half expecting to find the informant dead, definitely to find trouble. Neck deep in a suspected smuggling ring, they’d had their share of scrapes lately.

Jack screamed at her and his dream self, though he knew she couldn’t hear him.
Run, baby, please.”

Why? Why do I have to watch over and over again? His heart and soul cried out from the wrenching pain. Please, God, have mercy! Just let me die with her this time.

He finally felt the prickles of warning on the back of his neck. The nauseating pain spread from the base of his skull to his temples and lastly in front of his eyes. Finally able to see the threat, Jack knew, the vision came far too late. Someone was watching them, unseen from high atop the neighboring building.

Get out, Sissy!” Jack screamed. “It’s a trap! Run!” He fired two shots in the direction of his unknown attacker.

Three shots pealed through the dark. Two pinged off the brick. She turned toward his shouted warning and barely had time to call out before the third slammed into her chest. Dazed, she clutched her breast.

Jack returned the fire instinctively, getting off another six rounds, before the gun dropped from his hand. A dark stain spread across her white silk dinner blouse. He caught her as she cried out and crumpled to the ground. He pressed his hand over hers, a futile attempt to staunch the wound.

All that blood, so much gushing out of the hole in her heart. Oh, God!

It pulsed and dripped across her hand where his ring rested on her slim finger. An hour ago, it had seemed they had a lifetime to live, love, but now they might have minutes only. Maybe not even that long. He’d seen men die, had killed before, but nothing compared to watching the woman he loved bleed to death in his arms. There wasn’t anything he could do.

Help us! Somebody!” He rocked her back and forth gently, and dug his cellphone out of his pocket. The alley fell silent. Her attacker had accomplished his mission.
Another vision came, along with a sickening sense of loss. She would be gone before help would come. Helpless, Jack fought back the drowning tears and grief he already felt, and lied to her. “It’s going to be all right, Sissy, just hold on to me.” He stroked her hair, kissed her cheek. She shuddered in his arms as though she’d never be warm again. He dialed 9-1-1. “Detective Jackson Roarke. I need a bus at…” He rattled off the address. “Officer down, I repeat officer down. Bullet wound to the chest. Hurry, damn it!”

Don’t lie to me. I’m as good…as dead. You see it.” Her breath hitched as blood gurgled from her throat and stained her lips.

Catch them for me, Jack. Promise me.” She clutched his shirt, pleading.

I will, but you’ll help me. You’ll be there to help me.”
She nodded.
 
He looked back toward the gaping mouth of the alley. Where were the medics? He couldn’t panic, couldn’t afford to let his mind go frantic. Maybe he was wrong and what he saw wouldn’t come to pass. When he was about to give up all hope, the screaming sirens ripped the night air. Help was here. His vision had to be wrong, born of panic instead of the gift. Serena must live.

Almost here.” She was so cold. How could she be so cold already?

I love…Jack…tell…Sorry.”

Don’t say it, not now.”

Live.” She whispered, “Just live.”

He felt Serena’s spirit leave her body before fingers left a trail of blood to mix with his tears. Her bright green eyes lost their spark, faded and then saw nothing. His vision had happened. Serena Roarke was dead.

He shook her, rocked her, begged and pleaded. He cursed God and the devil, but she was beyond him now. Jack looked down to the bright red covering the concrete, her and him. Never again, he thought. Even though he wasn’t exactly sure what that meant. He tossed his shield on the ground, where their weapons lay in her pooling blood. Cradling his dead wife in his arms, Jack curled into a ball, rocked her lifeless body, and sobbed inconsolably.


Series Buy Links

About the Author: Brynna Curry was born south of the Mason-Dixon Line. After living all over the southern states, she finally landed in North Alabama where she lives with her husband and their three children. Growing up, books fueled her dreams and imagination, ultimately becoming her salvation during the hardest times in her life.Writing is her passion, but she enjoys the fun of sharing those stories with others by reviewing books and working in publicity. 
 
When she isn’t writing or promoting, she’s often found haunting the library for new books to read or just spending an quiet evening at home with Jackie watching old westerns on TV. Although her wizards, shifters and vampires are as real to her as anyone, she insists love is the truest magic and with it every day is another wonderful adventure.

Brynna’s Links:


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a Rafflecopter giveaway


You can win:

$10 Amazon or B&N gift card to be given away on 10/1 during the kickoff of 31 Days of Halloween

1 digital copy of series

3 digital copies of  Earth Enchanted