Thursday, December 13, 2018

The Christmas Countdown by Ani Gonzalez





The Christmas Countdown
Holiday Lake
Book One
Ani Gonzalez



Genre: Romance, Romantic Comedy


Publisher: FAC Publishing LLC

Date of Publication: 12/1/2018

Number of pages: 175
Word Count: 35k

Cover Artist: Ani Gonzalez

Tagline: A perfect Christmas in twenty-four hours? What could possibly go wrong…or unexpectedly go right?

Book Description:

For the residents of Holiday Lake, Minnesota, there is no such thing as too much Christmas cheer. The tiny town prides itself on celebrating the holiday every day of the year and their halls are decked with boughs of holly all year round.

Yet this December twenty-third, professional holiday decorator Nat Quinn, known as "The Christmas Queen”, has had enough. After a hectic year helping clients set up the absolutely-perfect-to-the-last-detail backdrops for the festive season, she is ready to relax. That’s when divorced billionaire and workaholic Cyrus Blackstone makes a proposal she can’t turn down: Provide the perfect holiday for his children in exchange for the beach vacation of her dreams.

A perfect Christmas in twenty-four hours? That’s a tall order, even for the Queen of Christmas and her team in Holiday Lake. As Nat races to fulfill her assignment, she realizes that the real challenge isn't the tinsel and pudding... it’s not falling in love.



Excerpt
CYRUS ENDED the call, satisfied. That was one action item taken care of.
He headed for a built-in mahogany cabinet that served as the study's bar and grabbed a bottle of scotch and a glass. A perfect Christmas with his kids. This was worth celebrating.
He sat on his desk chair and poured the amber liquid into the glass. The cut-glass pattern made everything sparkle, which was rather festive. Now all he had to do was get the kids on the plane. Everything else would be taken care of.
Happy as Cyrus was about giving his children the perfect Christmas, there was more to his feeling of jubilation. He smiled as he realized that the quirky holiday decorator had improved his mood. She seemed almost entirely too Christmassy to be real, but she also appeared to be someone you could count on, a quality that was lacking in this world.
He sipped his drink, feeling the fiery liquid slide down this throat. That had been a good negotiation.
And he was looking forward to the next one. As Nat had said, everyone wanted the perfect Christmas and it wasn't all that easy. An eleventh-hour version would, he was certain, encounter a few challenges, and he had a feeling he would enjoy maneuvering through them with Ms. Quinn. He felt a lot more confident after talking with her, like a weight had fallen off his back.
Leah walked into the studio, all well-tailored slacks and glossy hair. She definitely wasn't the slouchy sweater and Ugg boots type.
"The kids are packing," she said, a tinge of worry in her voice. "They sound really excited. Is she going to do it?"
"Of course," Cyrus replied. "Did you have any doubts?"
"Some," Leah exclaimed with a happy smile. "She was dead set against it. How did you convince her?"
"Money, flattery, and bottomless margaritas," he replied.
But that wasn't quite accurate. Ms. Quinn had given in when he'd mentioned his kids. That had been her weak spot. It made sense that a holiday specialist would be a sucker for kids. They were the point of her job, after all.
"How much do you know about this Nat Quinn, Leah?" He asked.
"She's fantastic," Leah answered, eyes shining. "You know Christmas is not my thing, so it takes quite a lot to wow me."
Cyrus nodded. Leah was Jewish, and she'd worked for some of the wealthiest families in Manhattan and London. She was notoriously hard to impress.
"But the Hagens hired me one week before Christmas and I was blown away. We drove up to the lodge and it looked amazing with a ten-foot-tall tree, garlands everywhere, and Mrs. Hagen's favorite vintage German decorations. Ms. Quinn even found the large old-fashioned bulbs that Mrs. Hagen wanted. She had an intact set and everything."
Cyrus suppressed a smile. At least he wasn't demanding rare Christmas lights and antique ornaments. Ms. Quinn was likely relieved about that.
"Christmas dinner was divine," Leah continued. "The main restaurant has an all-year-round holiday buffet with a citrus cranberry chutney that is out of this world. You can use it as a sandwich spread for the leftovers too."
His nanny's eyes grew dreamy as she described the food.
"And the pastry shop makes this amazing Black Forest cake with cherry Kirsch." Leah gave a deep sigh of longing. "It has so much alcohol you can't drive after you eat it, but it is delicious. Absolutely worth being housebound afterwards."
"So you want to go back for the food?" Cyrus asked, swirling the amber liquid in his glass.          
His question was greeted by an awkward silence.
Leah avoided his gaze. "Er, not exactly. The town is lovely and the people are, um, quite pleasant." She paused. "Particularly Ms. Quinn. She even gave us some Chinese food for Christmas Eve dinner, which was very thoughtful." Her eyes grew dreamy again. "The kung pao chicken was delicious. I hear the place closed though, which is a pity."
Cyrus smiled. "Let's hope Ms. Quinn can whip us something similar despite the time constraints. Given what we've given her to work with, we'll be lucky if she can find a Christmas tree."
"Oh, but I'm sure Noah's dad—"
Leah raised her hand to her mouth, eyes wide.
"Oh?" Cyrus raised a brow. "Who's Noah?"
A tinge of pink spread across her cheeks. "No one. I'll, er, go check on the kids now."
And she hurried out of the room.
Cyrus sipped his drink. Leah had been working for him for almost two years now, and she'd become part of the family. Yet he'd never seen her blush, not once.
Holiday Lake was going to be a lot more interesting than he'd expected.
He turned on his computer. A picture of his kids popped up on the screen. It was from the last time he'd taken Jack to the FDNY open house. His son stood in front of a fire truck grinning widely while his sister made bunny ears behind his head.
It was Cyrus’s favorite picture, partly because he'd made it to the field trip for a change, but mostly because Jack was wearing a t-shirt that read "Firefighters Like It Hot", seemingly oblivious to the double entendre.
Cyrus clicked on the Internet browser icon and waited for the program to load. An e-mail came as he waited. The sender was Nat Queen at TheChristmasQueen-dot-com and the subject line read "Contract for Immediate Signature." The words were punctuated with a dozen exclamation marks.
Ms. Quinn, it appeared, was quite efficient, a woman after his own heart.
When his browser window opened, he typed in "Nat Quinn Holiday Lake Minnesota." A surprisingly large number of sites popped up, most of them featuring the Christmas Queen motto and a mistletoe crown logo.
Ms. Quinn, it turned out, was a busy gal. She'd appeared on various morning shows, giving holiday decorating tips. She wrote a column on how to plan the perfect holiday. She had authored numerous magazine articles on virtually every challenge one could encounter during the holidays, and at least three of the articles dealt with gravy consistency. She had done sets for holiday movies.
No wonder she longed for a beach holiday. The poor woman must be exhausted. She even had a sponsorship agreement with a candle company. The ads boasted that her Citrus Cranberry Christmas Delight Candle was their all-time best-seller.
Well, there were worst things one could be remembered for.
He clicked on her website, TheChristmasQueen.com, and was immediately assaulted by loud music, The Carol of the Bells, if he was not mistaken.
It seemed the otherwise admirable Ms. Quinn had one serious character flaw: She was one of those people who had pop-up music on her website.
He muted the sound and scrolled down. There was another mistletoe crown logo, a recipe section, and several pictures of lavishly decorated houses.
Leah had not exaggerated. Ms. Quinn could put on a show. She'd even done a party with a real sleigh and live reindeer. He peered at the computer screen, jaw dropping in disbelief as he counted the animals. Eight reindeer, all suitably labeled. She'd done a holiday party with eight reindeer.
Maybe she could do Christmas in a day.
He kept browsing through her site. She had social media accounts with current pictures of the town. It had snowed recently and Holiday Lake could rightfully claim that it would be a white Christmas. The bakery that Leah loved was shaped like a Swiss chalet with twinkling lights and a giant Black Forest cake replica in front.
The Chinese restaurant, it turned out, was re-opening. Leah would no doubt be overjoyed. The Bavarian Brathaus sounded intriguing and the Holiday Lake Inn would be sponsoring a Christmas carol concert tomorrow night. The kids would enjoy that.
Holiday Lake seemed to have a fetish for measuring things. All their statistics were carefully noted on the various websites. They'd received sixteen inches of snow last week. The Holiday Lake Inn's all-you-can-eat turkey buffet had served seventeen gallons of citrus-cranberry chutney on December 26 of last year. Year-to-date, the tree farm had sold eight hundred and twenty-two trees.
He scrolled through the social media accounts and checked all the friends lists, but try as he might he could not find what he was looking for.
There were no clues as to Leah's mysterious Noah.
And there were no pictures of Nat Quinn. The Christmas Queen seemed surprisingly shy. No pictures of herself on her website. No selfies on her social media. Nothing.
But then he checked the images search tab and found that the local Christmas tree vendors had a picture of her. The image was blurry, so all he could make out was a slender woman standing next to an enormous Christmas tree, but clicking on the picture took him to the tree seller's website.
And there she was. Nat Quinn had filmed a television segment with Northstar Tree Farm, which had aired on the Minneapolis public television station. The tree farm had the video on its website.
He clicked play and sat back to watch.
Nat Quinn was a tall woman with bright red hair, green eyes, and a loud cheerful laugh. She knew more than any human being should about decorative conifers, and she could make a Christmas wreath in five minutes flat. She liked Balsam firs because they looked shaggy and natural, but she admired the Fraser fir's longevity. She wielded a chainsaw like a pro and she did not like artificial trees. As far as she was concerned, they were an abomination in the eyes of the Lord. She owned thirty-seven ugly Christmas sweaters and her favorite featured an unhappy-looking antlered Chihuahua. And she was single.
Cyrus found himself smiling. Nat Quinn was adorable.
She was also dead serious about Christmas.
She was the perfect choice for this job. Even the single part. Not that he cared, of course, not personally. It just left her free to concentrate on the job.
That was the important consideration here, the job.
But there was something. He scrolled up. He could swear he'd seen—
He laughed as he reached the top of the website. There it was in all its glory—The Northstar Tree Farm's Christmas tree counter.
And it read "zero."
There were no trees left. Zero balsams. Zero Frasers.
Nada.
He was still laughing as he pulled up Nat's email, opened the contract, and affixed his electronic signature.
He couldn't wait to see what the Christmas Queen would do.



About the Author:

Ani Gonzalez is a USA Today bestselling author of holiday-themed romantic comedy and cozy mystery stories set in Banshee Creek, Virginia (The Most Haunted Town in the USA!) and Holiday Lake, Minnesota (Where Every Day is Christmas!). Her books feature feisty, irrepressible heroines dealing with holiday mayhem, paranormal critters (ghosts, cryptids, pagan gods...the sky's the limit) and mysteries. They find love and laughter (and sometimes corpses) along the way, and readers get to follow them every step.







a Rafflecopter giveaway



Sin City Salvation: Holidays Are Hell by Karen Greco




Sin City Salvation

Holidays Are Hell

A Hell’s Belle Prequel Novella

Karen Greco



Genre: Urban Fantasy     

Publisher: 56West, LLC

Date of Publication: 11/27/18

Number of pages: 136
Word Count: 38,000

Cover design by Robin Ludwig Design Inc.

Tagline: What Happens In Vegas Needs to Stay In Vegas

Book Description:

There are thousands of bodies buried in the Las Vegas desert. Nina Martinez does not want to be one of them.

Blood Ops agents Nina and Frankie came to Las Vegas for a little R&R. But their holiday takes a detour when there is a mass suicide on the Vegas strip. With the sigil of Satan burning on the bodies, what looks like a human problem quickly turns supernatural. Satan is in Sin City, and he’s been reinvented as the self-help guru behind the multi-billion-dollar organization BestLife Ministries.

With an offer to attend the BestLife’s Yule Ball, Nina accepts her invitation to dance with the devil. But what happens in Vegas needs to stay in Vegas. For all of humanity’s sake…

This action-packed prequel novella to the acclaimed Hell’s Belle series gives fans of series a glimpse at Nina’s origin story while new readers can sample the unique Hell’s Belle world.


Amazon     Kobo     iTunes


Excerpt:
"You hear that?" Frankie asked.
"Do I have vampy hearing?" I countered with my own question. Of course I didn't hear it.
"That's right. Sorry," he said with a teasing smile.  "There's a lot of chatter in the wind, a lot of bobbies, EMS, that sort."
Frankie was a posh Brit. Sometimes his terms needed translations.
"By bobbies, you mean cops, right?"
"Right, police. They keep calling code 10-56. Any idea?"
"No, but Google will."
I stopped walking and pulled out my phone. I fired up my browser and punched in the police code while Frankie crossed his arms and sent his eyes skyward. His hatred of Google was irrational, considering the vamp never used a computer.
"Suicide," I said, reading off my phone.
"That many at once?" he asked. His eyes narrowed but his lanky body went electric, like he was listening to the wind again. "That's a terrible number of 10-56s being called."
"Maybe they're repeating?"
"Different voices. Dispatch is sending bobbies out to different locations."
"Where?" I asked, my own body tensing with adrenaline.
"All different hotels. All on the Strip."
"No," I said, launching myself forward, our ridiculous hotel less than a mile away. Get in, get to the room, close the drapes, pretend this wasn't happening.
"What?" Frankie asked, matching my steps. "Aren't you curious?"
"Human problem," I said. "Suicide is a human problem."
"Nina—" he started in that voice.
That. Voice. I knew that voice. That was the voice that said we should wade in.
I pressed forward. "Are they talking about puncture wounds in the neck? Are the bodies gutted, half eaten entrails left behind? Anyone speaking in tongues?"
He slowed his gate, so his answer came from behind me. "But this sounds like a mass suicide."
I pushed my pace even faster. If he wanted to explore whatever the hell the idiot humans were up to, he was welcome to it. I, however, wanted to wash off the stink of failure and then crash in the hotel's promised "Angelic Cloud" bed.
Frankie, of course, caught up. He wasn't even breathing heavy. Of course, he was dead so he didn't technically breathe.
"You ever hear of those Heaven's Gate nuts? That was human," I pushed out, getting a little winded, not by my speed walking but from the spike of my stress level. We were supposed to be on vacation. Hunting monsters 24/7 over the past nine months had me fatigued. I needed a time out. "Jim Jones? Not supernatural. Human."
"That was murder," he pointed out.
"Whatever. You get the idea," I said. "Suicides, even mass ones, happen for human reasons, Frankie. I promise you. This has nothing to do with us."
That was when Frankie football tackled me, shoving us off the sidewalk into the street. We slammed against the door of one of the stopped cars, then bounced forward a little before both of us landed on our asses in the gutter.
A body landed on the sidewalk in exactly the spot were were just standing. It made a loud thud on impact. Then a pink spray covered our bodies while fragments of bone pelted us, pinging off the metal of the cars still backed up on the street.
"What in bloody hell was that?" Frankie asked as we both scrambled back up to our feet, ignoring the shrieks of the woman driving the car we hit.
My own eyes tracked up the length of the high-rise casino beside us, where three heads poked out an open window, arms flailing and pointing down.
"Jumper," I said, looking at what was left of the body.
The torso was intact. Two arms and one leg had separated from the body. The one remaining attached leg was akimbo. His head was pulp.
In my job, I've seen human bodies ripped apart by werewolves and drained of blood by vampires. But this? This was a gruesome way to go.
I ignored the gore that covered my bomber jacket, now destined for the garbage bin. No amount of cleaning would wipe away the mess on this coat.
"Let's get out of here," I said to Frankie, who was wiping his leather down with a handkerchief. "Frankie, you're gonna need more than a little hankie to get that shit out."
"Don't you think we should stay for the police?" he asked.
"Human problem," I repeated.
"Nina." There was a warning in Frankie's tone, and I pulled my eyes away from the body and to a man huddled by the revolving door of the casino. If he had been mere seconds earlier, he would have been pancaked under the jumper.
The man's eyes were wide. His skin, sheened with sweat, took on a grey pallor. He couldn't have been much older than thirty, but what he just witnessed seemed to age him one hundred years.
"You okay, sir?" Frankie called out to him.
The man shifted his eyes towards Frankie. Fear and confusion danced behind his violet irises. I watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed, trying to find his voice. The pulse of the artery in his neck throbbed.
"I . . . I'm . . . what the—"
That was all the man could manage to get out before his eyes tracked back to the body and his face melted from shock to horror.
"Human problem, eh?" Frankie snarked with a nod to the remains.
I closed my eyes as my stomach roiled. Deep down, I knew. A string of suicides on the Vegas Strip the night before Christmas Eve? By jumping out high-rise windows? I didn't want to see, didn't want to know, didn't want to admit: this was no human problem.
"Nina—" Frankie prodded. "You gotta look."
With a determined sigh, I opened my eyes and saw a blue flame dance on top of the dead man's torso. Frankie and I inched towards the body until we hovered over it, watching the flame ignite into a shape from groin to chest.
"Do you see that?" the frightened man whispered from behind us. "You both see that, right?"
There was no way I could unsee any of it, especially the sigil formed from the flames.
This wasn't just any old sigil.
This was the mark of Lucifer.
The devil was in town.
And Frankie and I were likely the ones who had to run him out of Vegas.

About the Author:

Karen Greco’s entire career has revolved around writing. She studied playwriting in college (and won an award or two). After not writing plays for a long time, a life-long obsession with exorcists and Dracula drew her to urban fantasy, where she decapitates characters with impunity. Titles in her Hell’s Belle series include: Hell’s Belle, Tainted Blood, and Steele City Blues. Sin City Salvation is a prequel novella to the series. She wrote contemporary romance for a small press under the pen-name Jillian Sterling. She is currently re-writing and expanding those books for re-release. She is a freelance entertainment publicist and feature writer. She is a regular contributor to Providence Media’s various regional titles.







a Rafflecopter giveaway


Noelle by Emily Mims

    


            Who doesn’t love a good Christmas romance? Mistletoe and Christmas cookies and a child who wants Santa to bring Mom or Dad a happily-ever-after? The Christmas romance novel has become a staple in the last few years, and writers by the dozens flock to their word processors to write that perfect combination of love and holiday cheer. Many of these books tell a fine story. Others fall short of the mark. As a reader, when I read a Christmas story, I am looking for a book that goes beyond the sweet sentimentality of the season and delivers a story with some depth and genuine emotion involved. As a writer, this is what I seek to deliver in my Christmas novels.

            Many writers like to tell a story that could only happen during the Christmas season. Waaay too many stories are based on the hero and heroine putting on a school play or a holiday parade or a church pageant together. So I try not to do this. Except for ‘A Gift of Hope’, in which my hero and heroine fall in love while collecting and distributing toys to needy children, my Christmas stories could have happened any time of the year. The season provides a colorful backdrop, but my characters could just as easily fallen in love in April or July. Sure, I have my characters decorating Christmas trees, baking cookies, going to see Santa Claus, and so forth. But they could just as easily be decorating Easter eggs or marching in the Fourth of July parade. Staying away from a season-driven or dependent plot gives me a lot more leeway in the story I want to tell and more freedom to write strong characters. It also gives the books life after the season. My readers will enjoy the book just as much in February or March as in December.

            I also like a Christmas story with some depth and genuine emotion, including negative emotion and less than benign feelings. Good Christmas stories frequently deal with a heavy topic or two. The holiday season is a time of strong emotion for most of us. It’s a season of lights and magic and good cheer. It’s also a season of darkness, loneliness, and isolation. Whatever emotions a character is living with is only magnified by the season. Nor do problems go away during the holidays. They too are magnified during a season that is supposed to be about joy. A good story taps in to all feelings experienced during the holidays, not just the happy ones. Some of the best Christmas romances out there deal with grief, loss, family disfunction, loneliness, and isolation. As a reader, I don’t mind a tear or two along with my mistletoe. If anything, it makes the happily ever after just that much sweeter.

Feeling as I do, I don’t shy away from serious issues in my Christmas stories. ‘A Gift of Trust’ is the story of two traumatized individuals learning to trust one another. “A Gift of Hope’, perhaps the least serious of my Christmas stories, deals in part with the negative effects of urban revitalization on the elderly residents being displaced. ‘Evergreen’ tells the story of a dying child and explores the true meaning of family and my hero’s desperate longing for acceptance. ‘Mistletoe’ deals with grief and body image and self-acceptance-and no, my heroine doesn’t become thin and beautiful by the end of the book. This year’s novel, ‘Noelle’, tackles the issue of deep, hateful racism as well as the havoc a drugged rape wreaks on all involved. (I had no idea when I wrote the book in July just how topical the story would turn out to be.) None of these stories have a light, cheerful theme. ‘Noelle’ is particularly dark. But the serious themes make for stronger stories and a more satisfying read. And that’s just as true at Christmas as it is any other time of the year.




Noelle
The Smoky Blue Series

Book 10

Emily Mims



Genre: Contemporary Romance



Publisher: Boroughs Publishing


Date of Publication: Nov. 20, 2018

Word Count: Approx. 74,000

Cover Artist: Boroughs Art Department

Tagline: Ike and Cassie love each other. But her daughter stands between them.

Book Description:

He’s found the wife who’d run from him five years ago. But it will take a Christmas miracle to keep her in his life.

A terrified Cassie Jeffries fled Tennessee to protect her newborn daughter from her father’s wrath, abandoning her young husband in the process. Ike has tracked her down-not because he wants her any longer, but at the behest of her dying grandmother. Her love for Ike is still strong. He still loves her, too-but wants no part of her daughter Noelle.

Ike is beyond shocked to learn that the child he thought was his is in fact the child of his wife’s rape. He still loves Cassie, but every time he looks at Noelle he’s reminded of his own failure to protect the woman he loves. And Cassie is adamant. She will have no part of a man who can’t love her daughter. But danger lurks for Cassie’s child. Will Ike be able to protect Noelle from the threat that seeks to destroy everything his wife holds dear?
  



 “Yeah, it’s easy to love those blue-eyed blonds, isn’t it?” Wade gibed. “Those dark ones, man. They’re a lot harder to love.”
            Ike felt his temper spike and tamped it down. “It would be hard to love any child who looks like the man who raped my wife,” he replied softly. “It wouldn’t matter if they were white, black, or purple with stripes down their back.” More was on the tip of his tongue but he bit it back. He already sounded enough like an ass.
Wade gave him a go-to-hell look and glanced to one side. Cassie stood there, her face pale and her expression one of horror. Ike felt himself cringe. She’d heard every word.
He started to say something but clamped his mouth shut. He couldn’t defend a statement like that and he knew it. But it had been the unvarnished truth. Noelle was a visible reminder of Cassie’s violation. He didn’t know how to get around that.
Cassie disappeared into the house. It was time to make his case one more time and then get the hell out of here. Ike nodded to Wade, thanked Angie for her hospitality and followed Cassie inside, where he found her in the kitchen by herself. “You leaving now?” she asked as she transferred leftover vegetable sticks into a plastic bag.
“Not until you agree to come see Granny Mae.”
“Then you better wash your clothes and buy another tube of toothpaste. I’m not going to let you pressure me into a decision that’s not in Noelle’s best interests.”
“Damn it, Cassie, what about Granny Mae? Your grandmother’s dying. The only thing she wants before she goes is to see you and Noelle. Are you really going to deny her dying wish?”
“That’s right. Play the guilt card.” Cassie snapped the bag shut and practically threw it in the refrigerator. “I told you last night. Granny Mae is a woman of the holler. She’s not going to want to see Noelle. And even if she did, what part of ‘Hugh Siler will kill her’ did I not communicate fully to you?” She turned to Ike, her eyes blazing. “I’m not the sweet, gullible girl you knew before. The one who could be persuaded or guilted into doing just about anything you wanted me to. So don’t try that crap with me. No way in hell am I giving you any kind of answer today. Don’t ask again.”
“All right. All right. Calm down. No answer today. I get that.” He paused. “But I will say it again. Granny Mae will want to see you both. Your daughter will be in no danger from your father. So please, Cassie. Will you at least think about coming? Will you do that much? You could come for a few days, maybe a week after ‘Wizard of Oz’ finishes its run. Please, Cassie? For Granny Mae? Please?”
“I will think about it but no promises.”
“Thank you. I’ll need your contact information and would like you to have mine.”
They exchanged phones and entered the necessary information. “I guess I’ll be going,” he said as she handed him back his phone.
“One more thing.”
“What’s that?”
Cassie hesitated. “Never mind.”
“No, say whatever’s on your mind.”
“Noelle. She’s not responsible for the circumstances of her conception. She’s a beautiful, wonderful child. Everyone who knows her loves her.”
“I’m sure she is and I’m sure they do. I’m not proud of my feelings toward her, Cassie. Just so you know.”



About the Author:

Author of thirty-six romance novels, Emily Mims combined her writing career with a career in public education until leaving the classroom to write full time.  The mother of two sons and six grandsons, she and her husband Charles live in central Texas but frequently visit grandchildren in Tennessee and Georgia.  For relaxation she plays the piano, organ, dulcimer, and ukulele.  She says, “I love to write romances because I believe in them.  Romance happened to me and it can happen to any woman-if she’ll just let it.”

Website Address:   www.emilymims.com

Twitter Address:  @EmilyMimsAuthor

Instagram Address: mims_emily




a Rafflecopter giveaway


Tuesday, December 11, 2018

Cover Reveal and Pre-Order The Way of Thieves by K.N. Lee and Craig A. Price Jr.


The Way of Thieves
An Epic Fantasy Adventure
The Red Rogue Trilogy
Book One
K.N. Lee and Craig A. Price Jr. 

Genre: Medieval Fantasy/ Epic Fantasy         
Print Length: 276 pages
Word Count: 70k

Publisher: Captive Quill Press

Publication Date: February 19, 2019

ASIN: B07KX4584K

Cover Artist: Jacqueline Sweet

Book Description:

From the New York Times bestselling author of Half-Blood Dragon, K.N. Lee, and USA Today bestselling author, Craig A. Price Jr. comes an epic magical heist fans are calling Oceans Eleven meets Game of Thrones.

Magic. Danger. A gang of thieves unlike any you've ever seen.

Pre-Order at Amazon




About the Authors

K.N. Lee is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author. She is the author of the Dragon-Born Saga, Eura Chronicles, Wonderland University, and the Chronicles of Koa series. When she is not writing twisted urban fantasy, epic tales of dragons, pirates, and mermaids, and dark poetry, she does a great deal of traveling and spending time with her family. Wannabe rockstar, foreign language enthusiast, and anime geek, K.N. Lee also enjoys gaming and sketching. She is a winner of the Elevate Lifestyle Top 30 Under 30 "Future Leaders of Charlotte" award for her success as a writer, business owner, and for community service.





Craig A. Price Jr. is a USA Today Bestselling Author. His novel, The Crimson Claymore, an Epic Fantasy Adventure novel that has garnered millions of reads, was featured in fantasy, had more than 17,000 votes, and more than 1,000 comments/reviews on the social networking platform for readers and writers, Wattpad.




Thursday, December 6, 2018

Black Dog: A Christmas Story by Victoria Danann - Deck the Halls with Books Holiday Extravaganza



Black Dog: A Christmas Story
Knights of Black Swan
Book Thirteen
Victoria Danann

Genre: paranormal fantasy

Publisher: 7th House,
Imprint of Andromeda LLC     

Date of Publication: December 22, 2018

ASIN: B07JBK9DNR

Number of pages: 201
Word Count: 43k

Cover Artist: Victoria Danann

Book Description:

Old dogs tell no tales.

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author, Victoria Danann, brings a moving triumph-over-darkness story to the world of Black Swan.

The Hawking family is at home at the Northern Ireland farm and wolf-dog kennel for Yuletide when Blackie goes missing. Instead of a joyous celebration of family and friends, Ram's mate and elflings are beside themselves with fear and worry. As Song and Litha bring their respective paranormal abilities to aid in the search, the story takes a turn into the dark world of dogfighting and the abduction of adult male dogs matching the profile of fighters.

Black Swan rarely gets involved in the mundane affairs of the world because it's not their purpose, mission, or directive. But when Simon's office is drowned in messages from retired knights insisting that Blackie is unofficially one of them and that an exception must be made, he relents and orders available personnel to assist B Team with a rundown.





Blackie climbed the hill to his favorite spot. He didn’t trot or run, as he’d been known to do in his younger days. He ambled, telling himself that he could trot or run if he was so inclined. He just didn’t feel like it that minute.
The hill above the Laiken kennel and farm had the very best view of the surroundings. When he was there he could imagine himself to be protector of all he surveyed; his people, the land, the wolf dogs.
There’d been a light snow the day before, but the morning’s bright sun had melted a small clearing that formed a patch of bright green grass. Bright sun was unusual in northern Ireland at that time of year, but dogs don’t analyze changes in weather or atmospheric conditions. They simply accept what is and adapt as best they can. When the sun shines warm on old bones, they accept it.
After turning in a circle three times around the patch of green, Blackie sunk down into a sphinx pose and indulged himself in a satisfied sigh.
It’s impossible to know what dogs do or do not remember. Perhaps he had crystal clear memories of his adoption by The Order of the Black Swan and recalled every detail of every adversity and adventure. Perhaps there was a vague recollection of his history. Who can say?
He sat on the hill overseeing his farm. Perhaps old dogs do what old people do. They divide their reveries between recollection and remorse. Because even the best of us, human or dog, could have done things better. If there was an exception to that, it would be Blackie. Because he had never failed to give his whole heart and effort to any given task in any given moment. Surely dogs as smart as Blackie are like humans, recalling this corner of a moment or that fragment of a song at odd and inexplicable times.
To Helm, Blackie was as constant as was the idea of his father, Sir Rammel Aelshelm Hawking, Black Swan Knight Emeritus and Prince of Ireland, and his mother, Lady Elora Laiken, Black Swan Knight Emeritus, former Princess of Britannia, Stagsnare Dimension.
Perhaps his earliest memory was a black muzzle shoved between the bars of his baby bed resting on the sheet-covered mattress, intelligent brown eyes full of light and staring at him intently like he was the most precious thing in the universe. At fourteen he’d never confronted the prospect of surviving Blackie. He’d never considered it and simply couldn’t imagine the world without the big black dog.

About the Author:

#1 Amazon Paranormal Romance Bestseller

OVER ONE MILLION BOOKS SOLD

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author.

Knights of Black Swan - BEST PARANORMAL ROMANCE SERIES (2013, 2014, 2015, 2016)

A Summoner's Tale - BEST PARANORMAL ROMANCE NOVEL (2013)

Moonlight - BEST VAMPIRE/SHIFTER NOVEL (2013)

Solomon's Sieve - BEST VAMPIRE NOVEL (2014)

Falcon - BEST PARANORMAL ROMANCE NOVEL (2016)

Simon Says - BEST SCIFI/FANTASY ROMANCE NOVEL (2017)

D.I.T. - BEST SCIFI/FANTASY ROMANCE SERIES (2017)

In addition to the brave and beautiful vampire hunting knights, Victoria writes other paranormal romances that often touch on scifi/fantasy along with contemporary bikers for those who love it when the bad boys are soooooo good.





a Rafflecopter giveaway