Monday, October 10, 2016

~*~*~TOUR~*~*~ Unwrapping a Marriage by: Reana Malori & Michel Prince

Unwrapping a Marriage
by Reana Malori & Michel Prince
Genre: Interracial Romance, BMWW

A collaboration from two of your favorite Multicultural / Interracial Authors. Just in time for the holiday season.**

What do you do when the love that once set you free, feels like it’s holding you prisoner?

Sterling and Elizabeth Jackson have built a life most would envy. A beautiful home, two wonderful children and a very comfortable lifestyle. Yet something is tearing them apart. With divorce looming, they are trying to make it through the holiday season for their family.

With clashing schedules, demands from employers and two busy kids, the former lovers have managed to stay out of each other’s orbit, at least for a while. But Fate, or maybe their well-meaning family, has set them up on a collision course.

Past memories bubble up to the surface and there’s nothing to stem the flow. What once was amazing has turned hurtful and full of pain. But is that the real story? Is it too late for a couple who once lived and breathed for each other to find their way back?

There’s a thin line between love and hate. Will Sterling and Elizabeth be able to mend a love that seems broken and lost, or will the final pull on the holiday ribbon unwrap their last chance to save their marriage.

Reana's stories focus on multicultural / interracial romance. A firm believer that LOVE in all its forms should be celebrated, her goal is to weave a story that pulls the reader into her world and share in her universe, even if only for a short time. She currently lives in Virginia with her husband, and has two very handsome sons. You can most often find her enjoying a good book, as she is first and foremost a reader. And she loves a good romance. You can find her on Twitter, Facebook and Pinterest or you can send her an email at

Michel Prince is an author who graduated with a bachelor degree in History and Political Science. Michel writes new adult and adult paranormal romance as well as contemporary romance.

Wednesday, October 5, 2016

*~*~*~*BLOG TOUR w/ REVIEW~*~*~* Cherishing Mrs. Right by Debbie White

Cherishing Mrs. Right
by Debbie White
Genre: Contemporary Romance

Cody, a practical down to earth former Marine, turned steakhouse entrepreneur is enjoying his simple life until a phone call changes everything. 

Darla, a free-spirited vegan, travels wherever the wind takes her. But, this time, it’s different. 

At first, it seems the two have nothing in common until on a whim the two take off on a road trip across the country to visit a wounded Marine when something unexpected happens, and the couple realizes they have much more in common. 

Cherishing Mrs. Right is the heartwarming third installation in the Romantic Destination Series, a standalone that demonstrates just how easily love can transcend differences. 

Contains adult language and situations, and is intended for mature readers.

The words dance around in my head until I can put them down on paper.
Debbie currently lives in northern California where the jagged coast meets rolling hills dotted with vineyards. When she’s not writing the next best-selling romance novel, she’s spending time with her family, traveling, wine tasting and anything to do with the outdoors.

·       The Salty Dog
·       Passport to Happiness
·       Romantic Destinations
Finding Mrs. Right
Holding on to Mrs. Right
Cherishing Mrs. Right
 Ties That Bind
Things you may or may not know about me!

·       I can eat a whole bag of cinnamon bears without blinking an eye.
·       I have a soft spot for babies (the human kind and the furry ones, too!)
·       I happily donate a percentage of all book sales to animal rescue!
Follow me here:

Contact Information:

Wednesday, September 21, 2016

~*~*~*COVER REVEAL~*~*~* Clayton's Star by: Jillian Jacobs

A Hollywood starlet fearlessly prepares for danger but finds herself unprepared for the perils of love.
On the big screen Sheridan Bennett’s got the face of an angel and the body of a…well, isn’t that what’s expected of an award-winning actress? But there’s something about her Clayton Kincaid can’t quite figure. The former Ranger is transitioning from local police detective to private investigator, and Sheridan Bennett is one case he’d like to solve.

Sheridan knows her luck has taken a turn for the worse when her criminal father appears in the middle of a police fundraiser. Not only that, the one man capable of uncovering her secrets witnesses her distress. Her idyllic life falls apart as her father’s demands for money escalate and a stalker begins a menacing game.

Determined to keep Sheridan safe, Clayton works his way into her life and her heart. But when Sheridan learns Clayton has secrets of his own, she decides to face the fight alone. Undeterred by Sheridan’s belief in his deception, Clayton uses all his resources when the path of her notorious father and her stalker converge.

Together they must learn that the spotlight shines brightest when it’s shared, and that not all love is an act.

In the spring of 2013, Jillian Jacobs changed her career path and became a romance writer. After reading for years, she figured writing a romance would be quick and easy. Nope! With the guidance of the Indiana Romance Writers of America chapter, she has learned there are many "rules" to writing a proper romance. Being re-schooled has been an interesting journey, and she hopes the best trails are yet to be traveled. You'll find a bit of her husband in her paranormal series, The Elementals, as he's a chemist and has to answer all her, "Could this really happen?" questions.

Water’s Threshold, the first in her Elementals series, was a finalist in Chicago-North’s 2014 Fire and Ice contest in the Women’s Fiction category.

Three things about her: She’s a Tea Guzzler, Polish Pottery Hoarder, and lover of all things Moose. Her current positions with Indiana Romance Writers of America are Program Chair and 2015 Conference Co-Chair. The genres she writes under are: Paranormal and Contemporary Romance with suspenseful elements.

Jillian is also part of an Indiana author group, which posts videos answering questions readers post for writers. Visit The Juicebox Dialogues on YouTube for some sassy video fun with romance writers.  

Monday, September 19, 2016

~*~*~*BLOG TOUR~*~*~*~ The Hazards of The Old One by: Ren Garcia

Life ends, new life is born. Everything balances. 

When Carahil, an Elemental Spirit, witnesses the destruction of an entire world, he’s faced with the ultimate question: how far is he willing to go to save it? 
Carahil will gather friends-like Lord and Countess Blanchefort, renowned Fleet Captain and ex-Black Hat, to help. He’ll destroy lives, like that of Captain Davage’s best friend and first officer, Lt. Kilos, who is made to quit her job aboard the Seeker and go into the dreaded Hazards of the Old Ones: a place where only she can stand. Carahil will also search out disreputable sources like the scalawag Duke of Oyln, who has something malicious and wailing locked away in his dungeon. 
To make matters worse, hidden forces threaten to destroy everyone Carahil needs to help him. Ominous messages from nowhere, surprise visits, phantom people and taunting voices complicate matters. 
However, the most dangerous threat to this mission could be Carahil himself, who faces demonic transformation for getting involved and may upset the cosmic Scales of the Universe in a bad way. Carahil, though struggling to achieve a greater good, might be the cause of a horrific tragedy instead. 

Hell awaits should he fail.

Ren Garcia is a Science Fiction/Fantasy author and Texas native who grew up in western Ohio. He has been writing since before he could write, often scribbling alien lingo on any available wall or floor with assorted crayons. He attended The Ohio State University and majored in English Literature. Ren has been an avid lover of anything surreal since childhood, he also has a passion for caving, urban archeology and architecture. His highly imaginative "League of Elder" book series is published by Loconeal Publishing

Connect with the Author here: 

To view our blog schedule and follow along with this tour visit our Official Event page 

From Chapter 3: Visit form the Imp

The Imp he was summoning did not appear immediately, as he
thought it would. Instead, it took hours, but finally, eyes shining in the
dark, the Imp arrived, its body huddled up and obscured in the corner.
It emerged from the shadows and the Duke had a good look at it. He
called it an “Imp” for lack of better terms. He really didn’t know what
it was.
 “And so, my Lord Duke, I am here at last,” the Imp said in a bright,
clear voice.

The Duke, sitting there with his pipe, tried to be brash. “Punctuality,
Imp, must not be in much favor in whatever fire pit you come from.”
The Duke paused a moment. Even in his study he could hear the female
beast raging in the dungeon far below, wailing and moaning.
“I come at my own good pace,” it said. It lifted its silvery head and
The Imp smiled. “And, I suppose that racket issuing up from below
is why I am here, yes?”
“Aye,” the Duke said. “Are all you Imps as well-informed?”

The creature darkened a bit. “I do not like being called, ‘Imp’, sir.
I am not an Imp. If I were an Imp I would be mangling your flesh by
now. Be thankful I am of a kinder cloth. If you wish to toss names
about, I am certain I could think of a few for you as well—there’s quite
a selection to choose from, isn’t there: Raider, Brigand, Adulterer, Cutpurse,
Fiend, Pirate … Scalawag …”
“I think I like Pirate the best.”
“Really? I prefer ‘scalawag’. You are a scalawag, yes?”
“Aye. I have been called that,” the Duke said.
“I’ve been looking for a scalawag.”
“Have you? Well, look no further.”

Some sort of tablet or tome appeared next to the creature, and it
wrote something into it. The tablet then vanished and it came forward
a bit and shone in the light with a silvery glow. It was less than waist
high, smooth and metallic, like living mercury. It was some sort of
bizarre half slug/half dog quadrupedal animal, standing on strange,
bent, somewhat aquatic-looking front legs. Not being an animal lover,
he didn’t know what kind it might be.
“My time is short, sir. I already know what you want, but I’d like
you to spell it out for me anyway … to ensure there is no confusion
here today,” the creature said.

The Duke ran a hand through his blonde hair, opened his box,
stuffed his pipe with fragrant tobacco, and lit it. “I want you to calm
that damned Black Hat in my dungeon. We need to commence to
having children, and her yowling is impeding progress.”
“Really … children?? Hmmm … that Black Hat down there
doesn’t seem to like you much, sir.”
“She will, in time.”
“Given the standard of your previous marriages, it appears this one
is off to your usual start.”

The Duke puffed his pipe, un-amused by the creature’s attempt at
humor. “Can you help me, or can you not?”
“And what have you done so far … to cheer your ‘wife’s’ sour

And the Duke told him, he told the creature everything, and it
quietly listened, nodding every so often. The Duke found it felt good
to talk about the whole thing—to get it off his chest, and the creature,
whatever it was, was a good, comforting listener. The Duke even told
it that Sage of Ruthven suspected the Northern Lord had made up the
Black Hat story and wed a dirty courtesan—which triggered a huge
series of open-mouthed belly laughs from the creature. The laugh was
infectious, and soon the Duke was laughing too—the first time he’d
laughed in days.

Just the Duke and the silvery thing sharing a moment in his

“So,” the Duke finally said. “Can you help me?”
The silver creature thought a moment and scratched its face with
its left front appendage. “It appears that you have done all you can.
Yes, of course I can help you. But, as in all things, there is a price, dear
The Duke recalled the message he received. “What do you wish …
my soul perhaps?”
“That raggedy old thing? No, no, I desire something much more
useful and much more immediate.”

The Duke sat back in his chair, whitish-gray smoke from his pipe
curled up toward the high, ornate ceiling of the study. He thought
about it. This creature didn’t seem foul or evil. He felt it could be
trusted. “I’ll give you whatever you want. But help me now. If you get
me results, I am yours.”
The silver creature twitched its whiskers. Its shining eyes grew large.
“Excellent. Then let’s proceed, we’ve wife and best friend to make for
you. You going to teach her to bowl?”
The Duke smiled. “We do not speak of bowling.”
“But you do bowl, right?”
“Of course, and her average shall be the envy of the whole of
The creature laughed. ”Well, we can’t delay that, can we? Shall we
to the dungeon?”
The Duke stood and put his black triangle hat on.
“I didn’t realize Esthers wore Vith-style clothing,” the creature said,
noting the hat.
“I fancy Vith hats.”
“Ah …”

Together they exited the study, the Duke slowly walking, the
summoned creature loping along in all fours. Actually, as the Duke
noted, it didn’t have four legs, rather it had two strange front legs, and
its rear legs were nearly fused together and dragging behind—three
legs. Odd.

“Her name, Duke. Once we break the darkness around her if you
can get her to willingly tell you her name, then that appears to speed
the process along, though I know not why.”
“The Darkness? I believe I’ve heard of it.”
“Yes, the Black Abbess’s Clutch. A shell of evil swirling around
her … a darkness that will not break. It must be thrown aside, that’s
what I am here to do. I shall break it for you, and she will calm. Oh,
and if I may offer up a bit of advice?” it said.
The Duke looked at it, pulled on his pipe, and listened.
“You seek a wife in all of this, a woman who will love and bear you
many fine sons. This particular Black Hat is at least a hundred and
forty years old, yet her soul is as undeveloped as a newborn’s. When
we enter your dungeon, Duke, and do what needs to be done, we will
be, in essence, welcoming a brand new person into the League. All
of her feelings, her deepest thoughts, her wants and desires that have
been thrust aside, stunted, battered, deprived, hidden and denied her
for all these years are about to come flooding to the surface. It will be a
remarkable thing to witness.
 “You wanted someone to love—you’ve not seen such love as a
freed, reformed Black Hat can offer. She will stand by your side, loyal
to the end. She will love you the sum of her days; yet, she will not be
your toy, your pet. She will be your foil, your equal, terrible in her
power, endless in her devotion. She will argue with you, she will make
her thoughts known. She will make you a whole person and you will
do the same for her. All these things are very possible, however, love,
in any case, is earned—not given. You must be worthy of her love.
After ten failed marriages, I should think that you’d have learned that
by now.”

The Duke pulled on his pipe and thought.

“Additionally, the Lord of Blanchefort—for that is the ‘Northern
Guy’ who tamed the Black Hat Sygillis of Metatron, cracked darkness
hovering around her like a walnut shell—which is why I am here,
because you lack what he can do. You cannot break the Black Abbess’s
darkness around her.”
“Certainly, I’ll wager his Black Hat was nothing of the tempestuous
little fiend that mine is.”
“On the contrary, Sygillis of Metatron was a foul, evil, unrepentant
woman … every bit as vile and dangerous as the one shackled below—
though, admittedly, not quite as noisy.”

The creature nosed the door open. “On a more social note, Duke,
the Lord of Blanchefort also possesses a number of additional qualities
which you appear to need work on. Kindness, decency, wit, and basic
courtesy are just a few. You might be wise to follow his example. Forget
being the Duke of Oyln for a bit, forget being the swashbuckling
pirate, and try being a man for a change. Perhaps you have as much to
learn from her as she does from you.”
The Duke shrugged and held his pipe. “It … could be argued so.”

His previous apprehension had fallen away completely—this creature
was not evil, he could feel it. He fancied he even liked it a little. He
allowed himself hope—perhaps this silver beast could help him after
ominously from the bottom of the stairs.

The silver creature looked up at the Duke. “And remember, you,
sir, will be in my debt. When the time is correct, I will come a-calling
on you, and I will expect you to assist me as I wish.”
“Silence this woman and open her arms for me,” the Duke said
moving down the stairs, “and I am yours however you see fit.”

The Duke and the silver creature entered the dungeon, and
approached the screaming Black Hat. She spat and cursed. She opened
and closed her fists, wanting to wrap them around the Duke’s neck.
Standing back, the Duke watched as the strange silver creature
began its work.

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Saturday, September 17, 2016

~*~*~*BLOG TOUR~*~*~8 The Still Life of Hannah Morgan by: Lora Deeprose

Displaying HM800height.jpg
Hannah Morgan's life is at a standstill. Her dreams of becoming an artist vanished with the sudden death of her grandmother and mentor. To appease her distant and disapproving mother, Hannah gets a respectable job at a high-end day spa.
 Instead of painting masterpieces, Hannah spends her days painting nails and giving facials to wealthy women. Her dreams for the future have become a hideous nightmare. And it just keeps getting worse. She catches her boyfriend cheating, loses her job, and has to watch from the sidelines as her best friend, Jasmine Blue, goes after her own dreams of owning her own salon.
 Then she meets Aaron, a working artist, and finds in him a kindred spirit. And, to her surprise, she finds the courage to follow her dreams. When circumstances beyond her control threaten to destroy both her relationship with Aaron and her dreams of a bright future, Hannah fears her mother was right-that some dreams aren't meant to come true.

“As a small child I dreamed of growing up to be a chestnut mare. I was terribly disappointed when I found out people couldn’t magically transform into animals but I got over it by immersing myself in the world of fairy tales and thus began my lifelong passion for reading and make-believe.”

Displaying headshot2016.jpgLora Deeprose has a B.A. in Drama with a minor in History. She was born in the small town of Fort Saskatchewan, Alberta; the middle child of five girls.  In 2006, she and her eldest sister moved to a hobby farm in the remote Kootenay area of British Columbia and for five years had several country adventures which included raising chickens and goats, encounters with wildlife and wrangling the neighbour’s horses. Currently she lives in BC’s Eastern Fraser Valley.

Connect with the Author here: 

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Top Ten List
1. Animal: Fruit Bat
2. Colour: Pink
3. Flower: Pink Peony
4. Food: Chocolate
5. Drink: Champagne
6. Place to live: in an enchanted cottage in the woods
7. Season: Fall
8. Place to hang out: Book Store
9. Hobby: Gardening
10. Weekend Activity: A nap on a sunny porch or hammock.


The night before, I was supposed to go to a movie with my boyfriend, Mason Connor.  He had called at the last minute and cancelled because he had come down with a nasty stomach flu.  I offered to come by his place and take care of him, but he put me off, saying he wasn’t very good company and all he needed was some rest.
My shift today didn’t start until one in the afternoon, so after putting together a care package containing chicken soup, soda crackers, a bottle of ginger ale, and my special blend of essential oils I called Flu-Be-Gone, I headed out on the bus to Mason’s apartment.
The bus ride from my apartment on the southeast side of the city to his Kensington apartment took about an hour and a half.  It started to rain half way through the trip.  It was a cold, hard, fall rain.  If the temperature outside had been just a few degrees lower, it would have resulted in snow instead of raindrops.  By the time I got off the bus and lugged the paper bag full of remedies the six blocks to Mason’s building, I was cold and soaked to the bone.  I should’ve grabbed an umbrella.
I used the key Mason gave me last month and let myself into the lobby.  I shook the rain from my hair and headed up the stairs.  I was out of breath by the time I reached the third floor.  I balanced the soggy paper bag on my hip and jiggled the key in the lock of his apartment door.
“How’s my sick boy doing?”  I called out as I opened the door.  Just as I stepped inside, the bottom of the bag gave way and the contents spilled to the floor. 
I had chicken noodle soup all over my shoes and the glass vile containing my flu-be-gone elixir had smashed on the floor.  The apartment smelled like a chicken with a head cold.  I bent down to retrieve the plastic soup container, brushing wet noodles off my pant leg.  When I stood up, Mason’s head appeared from behind the back of the sofa, followed by another, blonder, prettier head.  Mason was obviously feeling just fine.
“Hannah, what are you doing here?  Fuck—what’s that God awful smell.”  Mason crinkled his nose.
His little playmate put her hand over her mouth and giggled, her bare shoulders shaking slightly.
I stood there with my mouth hanging open, looking back and forth between my boyfriend and his little tart.  Then I turned around and ran.  I flew down the three flights of stairs, banging my elbow as I pushed my way out of the lobby, and back into the pelting rain.
When I arrived home, I was frozen and my toes were numb.  I stripped off my soggy clothes and jumped into my tiny, metal shower stall, turning the hot on full.  But, with the iffy plumbing in my building, all I got was a lukewarm drizzle.  I fumed while I prayed that by some miracle the water would transform into something approaching hot.
That stupid jerk.  How could he?  I’d been dating Mason for six months, and I thought the relationship was actually going somewhere.  He’d given me the key to his apartment, for God’s sakes!  By the time I’d dried off and dressed in my work uniform, the clock on the microwave told me I only had five minutes to catch the bus.  I rushed out the door, forgetting the dinner I had packed for the day in the fridge.  I caught the bus just as it was pulling away from the curb.  On the ride into work, I alternated from wanting to throttle Mason’s skinny little, two-timing neck, and feeling like the world’s biggest loser.
That’s why poor Mrs. Weatherbee now looked like a sideshow freak and I was folding towels in the basement, praying that I still had a job.  All because of a lousy guy.

* * *

To view our blog schedule and follow along with this tour visit our Official Event page 

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Friday, September 16, 2016

~*~*~*~BLOG TOUR w/ REVIEW~*~*~ Between You and I by: Beth D Carter

Between You and I
by Beth D Carter
Genre: May December Contemporary Erotica Romance

A broken engagement left Madeline Shawl feeling like a shattered woman. When she meets Hunter Calegari, he seems to be the perfect man for some friends-with-benefits action. But when the easy affair turns into something more, it threatens her comfortable grief. 

The passion of the younger man nearly infects her until Hunter tries to articulate it with the three words she refuses to hear. When she pushes him away, wounding his heart, she finds her own broken all over again. 
Still, Madeline struggles to leave the past and accept that when Hunter said, "I love you," he wasn't just speaking for himself.

I like writing about the very ordinary girl thrust into extraordinary circumstances, so my heroines will probably never be lawyers, doctors or corporate highrollers.  I try to write characters who aren't cookie cutters and push myself to write complicated situations that I have no idea how to resolve, forcing me to think outside the box.  I love writing characters who are real, complex and full of flaws, heroes and heroines who find redemption through love.

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Thursday, September 15, 2016

~*~*~*COVER~*~*~*~ Take Me With You by:Nina G Jones


Book Title: Take Me With You 
Author: Nina G. Jones 
Genre: Dark Romance 
Release Date: October 17, 2016 
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

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book blurb

I watch.
I study.
I prowl.
I hunt.

I always go in with a plan. A set of rules for myself. I don’t take unnecessary risks. That’s how I’ve been able to evade capture all these years.

But there’s something about this girl that is different than the others. When I finally meet her, the rules become a blur. And I break the most important one of all—I take her with me.


It’s just my imagination—that feeling of being watched. That those icy eyes— a vivid turquoise with a distinct golden fleck—aren’t watching me.

It’s just stress. I am the person everyone relies on. Maybe that’s why I haven’t been feeling so content with my life lately. Why I dream those eyes belong to someone who can tear me away from all of my responsibilities.

But these are just shameful fantasies, never meant to breach reality.

Then one night, the dream comes true, only it’s a horrific nightmare.

Now, I only have one task: survival.


You don't stare the devil in the eyes and come out without some of his sin. You can't beat the devil without becoming like him. You can't appeal to his kindness, so you have to learn to play his games. You lie, you fuck, you manipulate, you fight, you hurl insults, until you do whatever it takes to win the battle. Every time you do those things, you understand him a little more. Until finally, he becomes your ally. You think you've won, that you've made him more like you. But the truth is, it's the other way around. So that even when you win, you've lost.




meet the author
Nina G. Jones is the author of seven full-length novels of various romance and erotica sub-genres. Her latest novel, Take Me With You, releases on October 17th.