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#Blogival ~ Porcelain: Flesh of Innocents by @lee_leecockburn @gilbster1000 @AuthorightUKPR @Authoright

I’m delighted to welcome Lee back to the blog for another of my #Blogival posts .. I read Porcelain some time ago and it blew me away so I highly recommend it. (Review Here) Lee has kindly written a guest post about her home city of Edinburgh which I have been lucky enough to visit and I can vouch it is a truly wondrous place. Enjoy 🙂 x

Detective Sergeant Taylor Nicks is back and in charge of tracking down a sadistic vigilante, with a penchant for torturing paedophiles, in this unsettling crime thriller by a real-life police sergeant. High-powered businessmen are turning up tortured around the city of Edinburgh with one specific thing in common — a sinister double life involving pedophilia. Leaving his ‘victims’ in a disturbing state, the individual responsible calls the police and lays bare the evidence of their targets’ twisted misdemeanours to discover, along with a special memento of their own troubled past — a chilling calling card. Once again heading the investigation team is Detective Sergeant Taylor Nicks, along with her partner Detective Constable Marcus Black, who are tasked not only with tracking the perpetrator down but also dealing with the unusual scenario of having to arrest the victims for their own barbarous crimes. But with the wounded piling up the predator’s thirst for revenge intensifies and soon Nicks discovers that she is no longer chasing down a sinister attacker but a deadly serial killer. Vivid, dark and deeply unsettling Porcelain: Flesh of Innocents is the perfect next read for serious crime and police thriller fans.

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About the Author

Lee Cockburn has worked for Police Scotland for sixteen years including as a police sergeant in Edinburgh for seven years and also as a public order officer. Before joining the force, she played for Scotland Women’s rugby team for fifteen years, earning over eighty caps for the Scottish ladies and British Lionesses teams. She also swam competitively for twelve years, successfully representing Edinburgh at the age of fifteen in the youth Olympics in Denmark in 1984. Lee lives in Edinburgh with her civil partner Emily and their two young sons Jamie and Harry. Her first book Devil’s Demise was published by Clink Street Publishing November 2014.

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Summer in Edinburgh City

Edinburgh City Centre is one of the most vibrant and popular cities in the world, in the summer months, it oozes culture and history and it has a draw from all around the world. The Castle is stunning holding prime position towering high above the city’s main street, Prince’s Street and between them the gardens, sprawling the full length of the famous street itself. There are many historical buildings, the Scot monument being one of them, it sits just inside Prince’s street gardens itself, it reaches high into the sky, looking down on Waverly station, there are 5 star hotels at both ends of Prince’s street, the Balmoral and the Caledonian (although now renamed, I will always think of it by this name) and historical National art galleries at the bottom of the mound, housing a feast of famous art work, and if you like art, you will have a wonderful day, enjoying the visual feast.

The city’s population almost doubles during the Edinburgh Fringe festival at the end of July and August, in which there are literally thousands of shows take place though out the festival, Music, theatre, drama, children’s plays, comedy and much more. The streets are buzzing as the shows take to the streets, street performers entertaining the masses, tourists and locals alike enjoying the free shows. There is just an unexplainable buzz about the place, something which I feel we Edinburgh locals, sometimes take for granted.

There are countless bars and restaurants in the City centre, something for everyone, nearly every nationality catered for, wealthy or not, you will be fed. The Royal mile runs down from the castle to the Palace, the cobbled streets a magnet for tourists who meander down taking in the wonders of this memorising city. The palace in now the close neighbour for the Scottish parliament building, two contrasting buildings, one modern, the other bathed in Royalty and history, also frequently visited by droves of people. Then less than 300 metres from the Royal mile is the Salisbury Crags, red stone cliffs formed from the extinct volcano known as Arthur’s seat, that seems to watch over the city sitting high above everything offering spectacular 360 degree views of the city, a must climb if you are visiting, but there is a road that circles it, so you only half to climb the last third.

Then of course is the Royal Military Tattoo, this is set in the Castle esplanade itself, the temporary structure built high above Prince’s street gardens, the height at the top of the seating is a little unnerving if you find your seated there. The show itself is breath taking, your hair will stand on end as the pipes and drums march out from the castle ramparts. The bagpipes and drums in mass is something you will never forget and want to see and hear again, just to be in awe once again. The performances are mesmerising with their precision and meticulous movements, all coordinated and totally synchronised to perfection, which the military would expect nothing less. The show will tantalise your senses, making you wish for more as the performance comes to an end, unless the outdoor arena has experienced some of Edinburgh’s famous weather, rain, with a hint of strong wind.

There are museums and tourist attractions, many of which are free for the tourists and public to enjoy, there are cinema’s, clubs, a plethora of shops to please all of those avid shoppers.

I love living here and would not change it for the world, we also have a beach with a popular promenade, 3 miles from the city centre, the Royal yacht Britannia, in my mind the city has everything you could ask for.

#BookSpotlight #Excerpt ~ The Daughters of Ireland by @SantaMontefiore @WmMorrowBooks @laurentrusk

(Deverill Chronicles)

 In Ireland 1925, the Anglo-Irish war is long over, but life will never be the same. Castle Deverill has been home to the Deverill family in West Cork for hundreds of years, until it fell prey to a devastating attack during the war. Young Celia (Deverill) Mayberry and her husband bought the estate, determined to restore it to its former glory. But not everyone is elated. Although Kitty is grateful to her cousin for ensuring the castle will remain in the family, she cannot help but be wistful for the days when she was the mistress of Castle Deverill. While she is content in her new life, her heart still yearns for Jack O’Leary. As Kitty struggles with her choices, she must make a heartbreaking decision that could hurt those closest to her.

Wealthy and the toast of the town in New York City, Bridie Doyle has come a long way since she was the daughter of one of the cooks at Castle Deverill. But all her money cannot ease the pain over having given away her baby or from seeking revenge upon the woman who wronged her all those years ago.

As Celia wastes no time, or expense, in hiring workers to renovate Castle Deverill, dark shadows are gathering once more, as the financial markets begin to shake. Now everything that felt so certain is cast into doubt as this daughter of Ireland must find the inner strength to build a new future.

Amazon UK

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  • Paperback: 567 pages
  • Publisher: William Morrow & Company (15 Aug. 2017)
  • Language: English
  • ISBN-10: 0062456881
  • ISBN-13: 978-0062456885

About the Author

Santa Montefiore was born in England in 1970 on a beautiful farm in Hampshire. After Sherborne School for Girls she read Spanish and Italian at Exeter University. She spent much of the 90s in Buenos Aires. Her love for Argentina inspired her first four novels, but her American publisher wasn’t interested in Argentina as a setting so she based her fifth novel in Italy – America came on board at that point but have not published her first four. Her novels take place in France, South Africa as well as Ireland and England and have been translated into over 25 languages and sold over 2 million copies worldwide. She has just completed her 14th title for 2014, The Beekeeper’s Daughter. She lives in London with her husband, the historian Simon Sebag Montefiore, and their two children.

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Excerpt

At last the castle came into view. The western tower where her grandmother had set up residence until her death was intact but the rest of it resembled the bones of a great beast gradually decaying into the forest. Ivy and bindweed pulled on the remaining walls, crept in through the empty windows and endeavored to claim every last stone. And yet, for Kitty, the castle still held a mesmeric allure.

She trotted across the ground that had once been the croquet lawn but was now covered in long grasses and weeds. She dismounted and led her horse around to the front, where her cousin was waiting for her beside a shiny black car. Celia Mayberry stood alone, dressed in an elegant cloche hat beneath which her blond hair was tied into a neat chignon, and a long black coat that almost reached the ground. When she saw Kitty her face broke into a wide, excited smile.

“Oh my darling Kitty!” she gushed, striding up and throwing her arms around her. She smelled strongly of tuberose and money and Kitty embraced her fiercely.

“This is a lovely surprise,” Kitty exclaimed truthfully, for Celia loved Castle Deverill almost as much as she did, having spent every summer of her childhood there with the rest of the “London Deverills,” as their English cousins had been known. Kitty felt the need to cling to her with the same ferocity with which she clung to her memories, for Celia was one of the few people in her life who hadn’t changed, and as she grew older and further away from the past, Kitty felt ever more grateful for that. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? You could have stayed with us.”

“I wanted to surprise you,” said Celia, who looked like a child about to burst with a secret.

“Well, you certainly did that.” Kitty looked up at the facade. “It’s like a ghost, isn’t it? A ghost of our childhood.”

“But it will be rebuilt,” said Celia firmly.

Kitty looked anxiously at her cousin. “Do you know who bought it? I’m not sure I can bear to know.”

Celia laughed. “Me!” she exclaimed. “I have bought it. Isn’t that wonderful? I’m going to bring back the ghosts of the past and you and I can relive the glorious moments all over again through our children.

“You, Celia?” Kitty gasped in astonishment. “You bought Castle Deverill?”

“Well, technically Archie bought it. What a generous husband he is!” She beamed with happiness. “Isn’t it a riot, Kitty? Well, I’m a Deverill too! I have just as much right as anyone else in the family. Say you’re happy, do!”

“Of course I’m happy. I’m relieved it’s you and not a stranger, but I admit I’m a little jealous too,” Kitty said sheepishly.

Celia flung her arms around her cousin again. “Please don’t hate me. I did it for us. For the family. The castle couldn’t possibly go to a stranger. It would be like giving away one’s own child. I couldn’t bear to think of someone else building over our memories. This way we can all enjoy it. You can continue to live in the White House, Uncle Bertie in the Hunting Lodge if he so wishes and we can all be terribly happy again. After everything we’ve suffered we deserve to find happiness, don’t you think?”

Kitty laughed affectionately at her cousin’s fondness of the dramatic. “You’re so right, Celia. It will be wonderful to see the castle brought back to life and by a Deverill no less. It’s the way it should be. I only wish it were me.”

Celia put a gloved hand on her stomach. “I’m going to have a baby, Kitty,” she announced, smiling.

“Goodness, Celia, how many more surprises have you in store for me?”

“Just that and the castle. How about you? Do hurry up. I pray we are both blessed with girls so that they can grow up here at Castle Deverill just like we did.” And Kitty realized then that Celia had placed herself here within these castle walls for more than merely the annual month of August. She was one of those shallow people who rewrote their own history and believed in the absolute truth of their version. “Come on,” Celia continued, taking Kitty’s hand and pulling her through the doorframe into the space where once the great hall had been. “Let’s explore. I have grand plans, you know. I want it to be just the same as it was when we were girls, but better. Do you remember the last Summer Ball? Wasn’t it marvelous?”

Kitty and Celia waded through the weeds that grew up to their knees, marveling at the small trees that had seeded themselves among the thistles and thorns and stretched their spindly branches toward the light. The ground was soft against their boots as they moved from room to room, disturbing the odd rook and magpie that flew indignantly into the air. Celia chattered on, reliving the past in colorful anecdotes and fond reminiscences, while Kitty was unable to stop the desolation of her ruined home falling upon her like a heavy black veil. With a leaden heart she remembered her grandfather Hubert, killed in the fire, and her grandmother Adeline who had died alone in the western tower only a month ago. She thought of Bridie’s brother, Michael Doyle, who had set the castle ablaze, and her own foolish thirst for recrimination, which had only led to her shame in his farmhouse where no one had heard her cries. Her thoughts drifted to her lover, Jack O’Leary, and their meeting at the wall where he had held her

tightly and begged her to flee with him to America, then later, on the station platform, when he had been arrested and dragged away. Her head began to spin. Her heart contracted with fear as the monsters of the past were roused from sleep.

#BlogTour #Excerpt ~ The Collective by R.S Williams @lilnovelist @NeverlandBT #Giveaway

Matilda Gregson never knew a world outside hers existed, that is until Harvey comes along and shows her something beyond her imagination. All that is on Tilly’s mind is finishing her dissertation, getting her degree, and spending time with her friends before the end of the school year.

But everything changes when she meets Jenny, an agent of a secret society, and nothing prepared either of them for the adventure they are about to endure. Under the pressures of surviving, their friendship grows and they find friends in the most unlikely of places, and betrayal just around the corner.

Will they both be able to stop him before he tears Jenny’s society to the ground?

Amazon UK

About the Author

Rhianne Williams, formally known as RS Williams, writes Fantasy, Adventure and Romance novels. As an avid reader Rhianne has always been in love with the written word and the emotions a good story can create.

Discovering she had a knack for creating stories as a teenager, she started work on her first story. However, at 16 the mundane adult world called her back to an admin job and Rhianne put writing on the back burner until she turned 20. Rediscovering her fascination with writing and creating Rhianne then threw herself back into her writing in 2014.

When she isn’t catching plot bunnies, typing up her creations or writing on her blog, you’ll find her in front of the television watching her favourite shows, spending time with her family and getting lost in others fictional worlds.

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Excerpt

“So, now that you are more settled I have a few questions to ask you,” he said as she took a mouthful of meat. She held her hand up to her mouth as she tried to chew it quickly.

“Go ahead,” she replied after swallowing her food loudly and reluctantly putting her fork down. She hadn’t eaten since that morning, and her stomach growled in protest.

“How do you know Harvey?” he asked stabbing some meat with his fork.

“I work with him, I’ve known him for years,” she said wondering where his line of questioning was going. He pressed his lips together and nodded his head in acknowledgement of her answer. Jenny took a deep breath, he obviously doesn’t believe me.

“What do you know about the ring he wears?”

“He doesn’t wear a ring,” she said instinctively. Harvey didn’t like jewellery on his hands; he had told her once that the only ring he would ever wear would be a wedding band.

“Yes, he does,” he said standing up. He walked over to a cabinet and pulled out what looked like a file before returning to his seat. He opened it up and looked inside. He pulled out a drawing of a hand and a ring and passed it to Jenny.

“How am I meant to tell if it is his? This is a picture of a hand,” she said politely.

“You can trust me, it is his.” He was looking at her blankly as if she should already trust him, but Jenny hardly knew him.

“Who drew it?”

“The last person to see him. My Second Mate is a member of his old crew, so I have it in good faith that it is his.”

“The Harvey I know would never wear a ring that wasn’t a wedding band,” she said.

“Obviously, you don’t know him that well,” boasted Joseph.

“I know him well enough,” she protested, frowning at him. Jenny didn’t want to argue with him, after all he was helping her find her friend but she couldn’t help feeling protective over Harvey, especially as this wasn’t that Harvey.

“How well do you know him, exactly?” Jenny detected a twang of jealously from him.

“Excuse me?” she asked. “Why is that of any relevance to you?” she snapped.

“Of course, you’re right. Well that’s quite enough work talk for one night, don’t you think? I’ll show you to your cabin,” he said smiling weakly. He obviously knew he had upset her with that comment. He wiped around his mouth with his napkin and threw it onto the table.

 

This giveaway is for 1 signed paperback copy of the book. UK only.

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#BookTour #GuestPost ~ A Shape On The Air by @JuliaIbbotson #Extract @BrookCottageBks #Giveaway

Genre: Historical Time Slip Romance

Release Date: 28th July 2017

Publisher: Endeavour Press Buy link:  Amazon UK

Two women 1500 years apart. One need: to save the world they know. Can they help each other to achieve their greatest desire? And what if that world they want is not the one that’s best for them? University lecturer in medieval studies, Dr Viv Dulac, is devastated when her partner walks out (and with her best friend too!) and threatens her home. Drunk and desperate, her world quite literally turns upside down and she finds herself in the body of the fifth century Lady Vivianne, who is struggling with the shifting values of the Dark Ages and her forced betrothal to the brutish Sir Pelleas who is implicated in the death of her parents. Haunted by both Lady Vivianne and by Viv’s own parents’ death and legacy, can Viv unravel the web of mystery that surrounds and connects their two lives, and bring peace to them both? A haunting story of lives intertwining across the ages, of the triumph of the human spirit and of dreams lost and found.

About the Author 

Award winning author Julia Ibbotson lives with her second husband in the heart of England in a renovated Victorian rectory, and, their four children having grown up, she is now suffering from empty nest syndrome. She is obsessed with the medieval world and concepts of time travel (and chocolate) (and cakes …). She read English at Keele University (after a turbulent but exciting gap year in Ghana) specialising in medieval studies. She wrote her first novel at 10 years of age, but life (and later the need to earn a living as a single mother) intruded and she became a school teacher, and then, on gaining her PhD as a (very) mature student, a university lecturer. Julia has written a memoir The Old Rectory: escape to a Country Kitchen (with recipes) and a children’s book S.C.A.R.S (a fantasy medieval time slip), before embarking on her Drumbeats trilogy (which begins in Ghana). Her latest novel, A Shape on the Air, is a historical (medieval) time slip romance. Clearly, she is obsessed … Apart from insatiable reading, she loves travelling the world, singing in choirs, swimming, yoga, baking, and walking in the English countryside.

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Deja Vu

Have you ever experienced that feeling of ‘deja vu’? How come we sometimes feel that an old house still bears the imprints of past inhabitants? I’m not talking about ‘ghosts’ or anything specific or physical, but what I have called in my latest novel ‘shapes on the air’.

The idea for A Shape on the Air had been brewing in my mind for a long time. I had been reading about, and mulling over, the notion of time slip and especially the concept of ‘worm-holes’ and the Einstein-Bridge theory of portals into other dimensions of time and space, in effect quantum mechanics. It sounds fanciful and Dr Who-ish, and oddly I’m not a great fan of fantasy, but I felt that this was in fact a more ‘logical’ (in some ways!) and scientific explanation of those everyday glimmers of ‘déjà vu’ and perceptions of the past that many of us experience, those intimations that maybe the spirits of history are embedded in the fabric of old houses and ancient geology. So, what if we could take it further and, somehow, actually slip into the world of the past, another world but one to which we might have a personal connection, through our own family links perhaps, which still reverberate through us; some kind of glimpse of shapes on the air.

Could, perhaps, our ancestors somehow reach out across time to ‘touch’ us in this world, not physically but spiritually or emotionally? Watching programmes like ‘Who do you think you are’ where the subjects research their ancestral history, I feel that there is a lot more in their discoveries than merely drawing up a family tree and timeline. They often find a rather eerie connection with their family members, in terms of character, situation, talents, life-views and professions. Of course, many of us, myself included, have looked into our family histories and see nothing at all in common with our ancestors, indeed sometimes they seem totally remote!

The theory of worm-holes and portals through which we could slip across the time-space continuum into other historic periods and places is really only that – a theory. It’s unproven – how could it be otherwise? But it does raise some wonderfully intriguing ideas. Such a gift for a creative writer. And since it is presented by great scientific minds such as Einstein’s, it lends itself to some serious thought.

As Rory says in A Shape on the Air, “Just think of the universe. Black holes. Even birth and death. What are they? How come you can suddenly become a thinking

person, at birth, and nothing at death.” Viv thinks she may be suffering some kind of temporary insanity after her traumatic experience with her partner Pete and that has triggered the feelings of crossing the time dimension and merging with Lady Vivianne, but as the story progresses it seems that there is more to it than that …

Giveaway

An e-copy of either The Old Rectory or Drumbeats (outside UK) Or paperback (UK only) if you sign up to Julia Ibbotson’s newsletter mailing list on her website.

 

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EXTRACT

God, why did it all have to happen now, when she needed to be on top form. Oh, why did it have to happen at all. Everything in her life was crumbling away. Pete, what have you done to us …

Again, a movement behind her, a parting of the rushes. The sense of a dark figure at her back. She swung round. Nothing. Then she turned back to the mere. A shadow on the water. She stared at the ripples but the image diffused and disappeared. Hardly daring to look she glanced round again. Nobody. She was alone.

Viv shuddered, her eyes fixed on the water in front of her. She must get out of here, get safely home, but somehow she couldn’t move. She was transfixed and held against her will, as if her body was bound with invisible ropes. The mere and the world around her juddered, swept away and then returned, misty and echoing in her head.

She felt herself cry out. But it was a cry, not for help, but of despair.

Then a hand planted firmly on her back, pushing her. She staggered but felt the inexorable push towards the dark murky water. As she fell, she had the odd sensation of someone breathing on her neck, falling with her. Her hand reached out to save herself, to grasp anything that might halt her tumble. She scrabbled wildly at the undergrowth but felt the branches break as she tried to clutch hold of them.

The cold water rose to meet her and there was no longer firm ground beneath her. She flailed about but it was hopeless; the cold stole her breath and her strength. Something was pulling her downwards, sucking her into the murky depths of the mere.

My little Lady Vivianne.

She was sinking, as if there was someone below her who was grasping her ankles and pulling her down. The water covered her head and, even at the last, when she managed to struggle her head above the surface she saw that she was much further away from the bank than she had imagined. She could no longer fight, and with that realisation, the water covered her head for the last time.

A deep male voice came faintly from far away and slowly entered her consciousness.

“Lady Vivianne!”

Viv felt a strong arm grip her waist and then she was floating, being drawn gently through the water. She gasped for breath as she rose, and her mouth filled with balmy air, sweet and fragrant. Oddly, it was light, and the sun was just starting to sink into dusk.

“What …? In heaven’s name …?” Viv spluttered, as the man lifted her up and over his broad shoulder and, splashing through the shallows, carried her to the bank. The world swirled around her and she found it hard to focus. She tried to draw in her breath but her chest felt too tight. She was trapped against him. Her body felt strange, her dripping sleeves seemed wider than they should be, her jeans somehow flapping against her legs. She was soaked through but yet the mere seemed to be calling her back again. She tried to twist round to it but the man only held her tighter. She grabbed hard at his shoulder and a piece of wet cloth tore away in her hand. It felt strange, not a fabric she was familiar with, thick and closely woven, but not rough.

He lowered her to her feet and grinned down at her. His eyes were dark like smoke, skin olive and exotic, and he ruffled his long dark curly hair to flick away the water that soaked it. She stared at his large wide mouth and the dark shadow that swept his chin and upper lip. His smile was intimate as if they shared a secret. For a moment, Viv felt her brain somersault. Her mind was drifting in and out of consciousness.

She was aware of movement around her and she tore her eyes away from him. There were people, men, their figures moving out of focus behind him, their voices echoing as if from far away. There were trees that she didn’t remember being around the mere. It seemed wilder than it should have been. Yet everything within a few feet of her was exceptionally bright and clear, the light picking out all detail: the veins on the leaves, the knobbles and crevices of the tree bark starkly sharpened in high relief. Beyond that, all she saw was misty and swirling.

As she clenched her hands into fists she realised that she still held the torn fragment of cloth, and made to thrust it into the pocket of her jeans. The pocket was no longer there. She looked down and saw that she wore a long skirt, the dark wet fabric clinging to her legs. Good god, what was happening?

Viv looked back at the tall figure before her. He was dressed in some kind of loose cream tunic, dripping with lake water, with a brown leather belt that was finely tooled in gold, and as she stared he pulled on his boots that he had left at the water’s edge.

She looked wildly around her. The other men were dressed likewise in tunics, though not so fine. There were horses higher up on the bank-top; she could hear their loud snorting and feel the juddering of the earth as they stamped their hooves. What was this? What was going on? Her brain didn’t seem to be working properly; she felt confused, dull-witted. The sun was sinking behind the trees, leaving a trail of bloody streaks, red and orange, in the sky. Yet she had stumbled into the lake in the dark. She remembered staggering, a hand on her back, clutching for the branches to halt her fall into the water, floundering, or being pushed? Her clothes … her peculiar-feeling body … these people.

Her hand found a pouch hanging from her waist within the folds of her soaking skirt and she thrust the fabric into it, hiding it, though she had no idea why she needed to.

“Sir Roland,” murmured one of the men, holding out to the dark-eyed man a large heavily embroidered crimson cloak which her rescuer swept around his shoulders and pinned with a huge gold brooch, covering the torn seam. As he did so, he glanced at Viv and smiled intimately again, his glance insolently drifting down to the clinging folds of her skirt and the pouch where the fragment of cloth nestled. His eyes found hers. Embarrassed, she turned away.

Enjoy our selection of New Releases / Free & Bargain Books this week! @beckvalleybooks

Sharing the Love of Books
Enjoy our selection of New Releases / Free & Bargain Books this week

Authors please feel free to add your own books
Readers please free to add your own finds
(any genre except erotica welcome)

This weekly link up is hosted by Beck Valley Books & these awesome book loving blogs…
Monday
Life as Leels | IrishdaisylovesRomance | Book Babble | All Romance Reader
Tuesday
It’s My Side of Life | Celticlady’s Reviews | First Time Mommy Adventures | Bound 2 Escape
Wednesday
Beck Valley BooksA Library of Reviews | Cinnamon Hollow Reviews
Thursday
Miki’s Hope | Taking Time for Mommy | Nicki’s Nook
Friday
Ebook Addicts | I Love Romance | A Bit Bookish | Mother Distracted | Colorimetry
Saturday
Totally Addicted to Reading | 3 Partners in Shopping | Angie’s Angle I Creat Purty Thangs | Wishful Endings
Sunday
Lynchburg Mama | LibriAmoriMieiAli – The Dragon Slayer | Wondermom WannabeMy Bizzy World |
Deal Sharing Aunt 

For Pre-orders post – PRE-ORDER / genre / title /author

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(Strictly no Erotica please.  Steamy romance is fine but watch those covers people, incase any underage child is viewing it!)

Here is this weeks awesome selection!



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#PromoBlitz ~ The Slant Six by Christopher F. Cobb @chrisfcobb @RABTBookTours

Sci-fi / space opera thriller
Date Published: March 31, 2017
Publisher: Darkwater Syndicate, Inc.
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The year is 2252 and Loman Phin is in trouble. A washed-up channelship racer turned freelancer, he hits pay dirt with his latest mission: a fortune is on the line if he can transport forty-three kilograms of human skin to a remote villa on Pluto’s moon, Nix. Little does he know his very life is at stake when he gets caught up in an ancient feud, chased by a space vampire, and forced into a death-race by the king of Ceres. Meanwhile, danger is always hot on his heels in the form of a massive space freighter out for Loman’s blood. With just his wits, his friends, and his beat-up cruiser, the Slant Six, Loman sets out on the most dangerous adventure of his life.
Excerpt
Loman squeezed the control stick, his knuckles turning white. The Slant Six blasted from the tunnel directly into traffic, crisscrossing the expanse of Island Earth Grand Central Station. The little channelship was a mere speck of dust inside a giant tumbling drum of organized chaos.
“Twelve o’clock!” Portia pointed to a great lumbering whale of a black Bentley that sailed across their trajectory, blithely unaware that both ships were on the verge of becoming unrecognizable husks of burning scrap.
Loman jerked the stick to the left and pushed it downward. With an abrupt drop they angled sharply underneath the leviathan. As she lifted off the seat, Portia felt her stomach clench into a knot. She clapped her hands to her mouth to keep from vomiting and kept them there until the feeling passed.
The Slant Six shuddered as its roof scraped the Bentley’s hull; the shrill noise curled her toes. No sooner had they cleared the Bentley than another vessel, with the image of a blazing comet stenciled on its side, cut into their flight path.
“Comet!” Loman snapped the stick back and to the right. They shot upward with a starboard roll, just missing the Comet as it barreled past.
Loman leveled them out in time to avoid a row of cruising channelships awaiting their turn to launch. The Slant Six weaved in and out of the slow moving ships so quickly that the line appeared to be standing still. Loman continued to navigate the quickly eroding pattern of traffic inside the station.
The mouth of the main tunnel came into view, with open space beyond it.
“There she blows!” he said. “Our egress to free space.”
Portia gave a weak nod. Whatever flaws the man had as a human being, she was thankful he more than made up for these with his piloting skills.
Island Earth Grand Central was utter bedlam as the other pilots reacted to the rogue channelship. Several ships spun in directionless circles while others bumped each other like a flock of feeble-minded geese in flight. Sirens from the station patrol blared, but it was already far too late for anyone to catch the Slant Six sprinting toward the exit.
The colossal dexelized head of the Abacus materialized to block their departure from the interchange. You’d think her gently drooping face would look a hundred times sweeter on such a titanic scale, but nothing could be further from the truth. At fifty meters across, those normally soft wrinkles became deep, dark chasms; her rubicund cheeks expanded into twin reproductions of the planet Mars—acrid and inhospitable.
“Now hold on there, sugah,” the trembling speech of the Abacus boomed throughout the station, filling it full of saccharine and horse sense. “If you don’t change direction, you may end up where you’re heading. Slow down and land at the nearest pulpit. What do you say, sweetie?”
“How does she know it’s me?” Portia asked aloud without having meant to. She leveled an angry glare at Loman. “You idiot, why didn’t you cloud our i-dents?”
“Don’t sweat it, Little Miss Moonbeam,” Loman chuckled. “It’s a canned warning. She doesn’t know us from Adam.”
Loman rocketed the Slant Six up the left nostril of the monstrous Abacus. He’d gotten them safely into the tunnel, and so all they had to do now was survive these last couple kilometers of intermittent darkness as they blasted down the flashing passageway.
Punishing vibrations shook the Slant Six, rattling her from stem to stern. Sitting on her hands, Portia gripped the bench seat even tighter. The shaking grew worse by the millisecond, threatening to tear them apart.
“Damn,” Loman growled through the noise. “Not again.”
“What is it?”
“Ah, the vibration damper ring tends to slip when using emergency propulsion for too long… it happens.”
“It happens?” Portia was aghast. “That’s all you can say? It happens?”
“Don’t worry, she can take it.”
A sizeable chunk of outer skin plating tore off the nose of the channelship. The twisted section of hull slammed into the forward transom and proceeded to bounce along the length of the Slant Six, banging and clanging as it went flying off into the blackness. Portia and Loman looked at each other, she with worry and he with what had to be feigned confidence.
“Not an essential piece, not really.” He smiled weakly. “Nothing I can’t handle.” Loman begin furiously adjusting his rheostats. “All it takes is some extra pressure to compensate for the weakened hull segment and bingo! We’re good to go.”
The Slant Six was still shuddering as she shot out of the open crater beyond the domes of Island Earth. Portia felt the g’s push against her chest as they broke from the weak gravity of the moon. At last, they catapulted into the cosmos, free from the constraints of artificial atmosphere and away from confined spaces.
Loman wasn’t smiling as he made a few more corrections on a console glowing cool blue from the hot ice beneath its surface.
The vibrations instantly stopped and the roar of the ship’s emergency thrusters was silenced. All went quiet as sanity finally returned to their encapsulated world. The absence of sound was pure manna for Portia’s ears.
“We’re using her magneto-static drive now,” said Phin as he let go of the control stick. It retracted back into the floor panel.
The Slant Six settled in and drifted silently into the expanse of stars.
“That’s better.” Portia smoothed down her hair and flattened out the wrinkles on her disheveled gown. “You will intersect with the channel and head to the Kuiper Pass near Triton. You’ll get more instruction once we’re there.”
“Whatever you say… whoever you are,” he muttered.
About the Author

Born and raised in West Palm Beach, Florida, Christopher Cobb ventured off to the wilds of New York City for several years to experience the world of acting. Finding it a cruel and inhospitable world, he hid high in the Appalachian Mountains of North Georgia for a time. Having grown weary of snow and perilous black ice, his life path took him back home to south Florida where he earned college degrees at Florida Atlantic University. He now lives in Jupiter—the city, not the planet—with his true love and talented artist, Alicia, their two weird cats, Simon and Weezy, and his amazingly wonderful daughter, Emma. He is a member of the Bloody Pens Writers Group, as well as the Florida Writer’s Association and intends on writing more exciting books for publication. All this makes Christopher a very happy man indeed. Visit him at www.chrisfcobb.com.
 
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#BlitzPost ~ Entombed by Ruth Parker @RParkerAuthor @RABTBookTours #Giveaway

Romantic Suspense
Date Published: 8/17/17
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It’s hard being the daughter of a serial killer. Especially when your father has a lot of sick, twisted fans…
Camille West is the daughter of the infamous Body in the Barrel Killer, the maniac who entombed his victims in large steel barrels after days of torture. When she reluctantly returns to her hometown to take care of her ailing mother, there is a surprise waiting in her new house.
A barrel. A body. And a promise.
Camille has worked hard to forget her small hometown and the stain of her father’s crimes. But someone out there never forgot her…
If that wasn’t enough, her old flame Jake Musgrove is still in town, now working as a private investigator. His smirk and arrogance are a big part of why she fled her small town ten years ago.
Jake has screwed up pretty much everything in his life, but his biggest regret is how he let Camille walk away. Now that she’s back, he refuses to lose her again. He’s got to put it all on the line to protect her, but the killer is getting closer and he’s got to figure out who it is before Camille is entombed…
 
This romantic suspense novel is a page-turning standalone with an HEA and no cliffhangers.
About the Author
 

RUTH PARKER lives in Los Angeles, in a house covered in toddler handprints and cat hair. She has a crippling addiction to diagramless crossword puzzles, Forensic Files and John D. MacDonald novels. Send help. And pencils.
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#BookTour #Extract ~ Ethan’s Daughter by @RachelBrimble @BrookCottageBks #Giveaway

Series: Templeton Cove Stories # 7 (can be read as a standalone)

Genre: Romantic suspense

Release Date: August 1st 2017

Publisher: Harlequin Superromance

There’s safety in solitude…isn’t there?

Single dad and best-selling thriller writer Ethan James has no problem being Templeton Cove’s most famous recluse…until a surprise visit from the past plunges him into a real-life crime drama just as feisty nurse Leah Dixon barges her way into his world.

Ethan’s first priority is to protect his daughter. His second priority is to keep Leah out of this dark web—and that means out of his bed. Except Leah isn’t going anywhere; she’s afraid little Daisy is in danger. Ethan couldn’t live with himself if anything happened to Leah…but pushing her away may be even harder.

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Amazon US

Amazon UK

B&N

Kobo

About the Author

Rachel lives with her husband and two teenage daughters in a small town near Bath in the UK. After having several novels published by small US presses, she secured agent representation in 2011. Since 2013, she has had seven books published by Harlequin Superromance (Templeton Cove Stories) and an eight coming in Feb 2018. She also has four Victorian romances with eKensington/Lyrical Press.

Rachel is a member of the Romantic Novelists Association and Romance Writers of America, and was selected to mentor the Superromance finalist of So You Think You Can Write 2014 contest. When she isn’t writing, you’ll find Rachel with her head in a book or walking the beautiful English countryside with her family. Her dream place to live is Bourton-on-the-Water in South West England.

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EXTRACT

On the other side of the front door, the kitchen/dining room stretched from the front to the back of the house. Even though it was in semi-darkness, Leah could see straight through to some French doors at the back, the only illumination coming from the overhead light of the stove as it glinted on steel toward the center of the room.

Snapping her gaze to Daisy, Leah’s opinions on personal tastes flew to the wayside. The little girl’s eyes were wide as she chewed her bottom lip. Leah frowned. “Are you all right, sweetheart? Do you want me to knock?”

Daisy nodded and raised her arms toward Leah as though asking to be picked up. “Yes, please. Daddy might be mad.”

“Oh, Daddy won’t be mad.” Leah bent down and picked her up, hitching her onto her hip as Daisy’s arms wound around her shoulders. “If Daddy’s mad, I’ll show him how to calm himself down real quick. Don’t you worry about that.” Leah lifted the brass knocker and let it fall a little harder than necessary.

No answer.

Narrowing her eyes, she knocked again.

She was readying to knock a third time when the door swung open.

“I told you to get the hell out of here and not come back.” The man’s dark hair sprouted from every angle, his raging eyes bulging and his right hand swathed in a blue and white––and bloodied––dishtowel. His gaze held Leah’s for a split-second before he snapped his attention to Daisy. “My God, Daisy. What are you…” He cupped Daisy under her armpits, wincing slightly as he pulled her from Leah’s arms to hold her close. He pressed a lingering kiss to her temple, his raging eyes hidden behind his closed lids.

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#BlitzPost ~ Letters to Lincoln by Tracie Podger @TRACIEPODGER @BarnardLaura

I’m happy to be hosting the blitz for this great looking book today .. I have a copy which I will be reviewing in the next week or so .. I was hoping to get the review ready to correspond with this post but as often happens life got in the way! x
 
Letters to Lincoln by Tracie Podger
 

 

Blurb:
What do you do when your husband dies
unexpectedly?
You write him a letter, of course.
What do you do when someone answers
that letter?
Dani was mid-thirties when she found
herself alone and without her soulmate.
Coming to terms with her loss took all
her strength and her voice.
If Dani thought she’d experienced the
worst life could throw at her, she was wrong.
Lies, deceit, confusion surround her.
A stranger, a builder, and a priest,
comfort her.
Letters to Lincoln is a contemporary
romance about overcoming loss, finding the strength to rebuild a life, and
learning to forgive.
For readers over the age of 18.
#NowLive #LTL
#LettersToLincoln #LetLincolnIntoYourHeart
#ItStartedWithABottle
#TraciePodger #NewRelease #Romance

 

If you loved A Virtual Affair, then you’ll also love Letters To Lincoln – reviewer.
 
Excerpt
I heard noises: beeping, whispered voices. It was the
clinical smell assaulting my nose that had me realise I wasn’t at home. I tried
to open my eyes, but the light, such a bright light above me, burned my
retinas. My body ached, my arm felt heavy as if weighed down.
I drifted back into sleep.
“Dani, can you hear me?”
“Dani, we need you to open your eyes, honey.”
Honey?
I felt a hand on my shoulder, it gently squeezed. Why
couldn’t they leave me be? Did they not understand? The minute I opened my
eyes, the minute I heard their words, I’d have to remember. I didn’t want to
remember.
“Baby girl, it’s time to wake up now.” Not even my dad’s
voice could chase the fear of waking up away.
The hand squeezed and eventually, fingertips pried one
eyelid open. I moved my head away; it was an invasion. An assault on my desired
numbness. I had no choice. I opened my eyes, squinting against the harsh lights
above me and turned my head.
My dad sat on a chair beside me. He leant forwards, reached
out, and smoothed the hair from my forehead. I winced at the sting as his
fingers brushed over the stitches.
“Hey,” he said, gently.
A nurse stood beside him, busying herself with a clipboard
and notes. She looked up and smiled softly at me. I didn’t return the smile.
I looked down at the arm that felt heavy and saw the white
plaster cast, stretching from hand to elbow. Using my other hand, I placed it
on my stomach. I knew.
About the Author
Tracie Podger currently lives in Kent, UK with her husband and a
rather obnoxious cat called George. She
s a Padi Scuba
Diving Instructor with a passion for writing. Tracie has been fortunate to have
dived some of the wonderful oceans of the world where she can indulge in
another hobby, underwater photography. She likes getting up close and personal
with sharks.
Tracie likes to write in different genres. Her Fallen Angel series
and its accompanying books are mafia romance and full of suspense. A Virtual
Affair is contemporary romance, and Gabriel and A Deadly Sin are
thriller/suspense. The Facilitator is erotic romance.
Available from Amazon,
iBooks, Kobo & Nook
Fallen Angel, Part 1
Fallen Angel, Part 2
Fallen Angel, Part 3
Fallen Angel, Part 4
The Fallen Angel Box Set
Evelyn – A Novella To accompany the
Fallen Angel Series
Rocco A Novella To accompany the Fallen Angel Series
Robert To accompany the
Fallen Angel Series
Travis To accompany the
Fallen Angel Series
A Virtual Affair A standalone and
available in KindleUnlimited
Gabriel A standalone and
available in KindleUnlimited
The Facilitator A standalone and
available in KindleUnlimited
A Deadly Sin A standalone and available
in KindleUnlimited
Harlot A standalone and
available in KindleUnlimited
Letters to Lincoln A standalone
Coming soon
Allana
A Deadly Mission
Hitchhiker
Jackson
Stalker Links
Amazon Author Page https://author.to/TraciePodger
 

#BookBlitz #ReleaseDay ~ Survivor by Hayley Oakes @HOakesauthor @BarnardLaura

(¸.•´ (¸.•`Hayley Oakes – Survivor – OUT NOW! .•*´¨) ¸.•*¨)
Synopsis:
I live
by one motto – work hard, play harder.

A pro-football player at the top of my game: the Devereux charm, and my skills
on and off the field haven’t let me down yet.

Whatever I want comes easy to me but when I see the cute, blonde gym instructor
with the sensational body, I want her … but something tells me it’s going to
take more than my name to score with Perrie Fraser.

Head down, no distractions – it’s my new mantra.

As a gym instructor to high-end clientele, all I want is to get through each
day without attracting unwanted attention. Even if that attention does come in
the form of a drop-dead gorgeous, annoyingly charming pro-football player.

If his ego doesn’t send me running, then his playboy image definitely should
… but the more I get to know him, the clearer it becomes that saying no to
Thomas Devereux is going to be much harder than I thought.

Sometimes the last thing you think you need becomes the only thing you can
trust.

 

Read book 1 in the Richmore series (although both can be read as standalones) – myBook.to/Condemned_richmore 
Giveaway
Head on over to Hayley’s facebook page to enter her release day giveaway for a chance
to win £25 Amazon gift card!
 
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