Saturday, September 30, 2017

My Furbaby Is A Thief

This is Church. 



He’s my furbaby. I love him to bits. He’s snuggly and huggable. He’s a big cat, but let’s face it . . . he’s fat and has an anal gland problem. Let’s not even go there. LOL. 

Last week I had to take him to the vet because he kept scooting his butt across the carpet . . . yeah, impacted anal glands. Anyway, he needs to lose weight. He was 22 pounds, and I got him down to 18, but now he’s 19 pounds. I would put him on special diet food, but the last time I did, he became despondent and anti-social. I decided to cut his food portions instead, but then I ended up giving him a little bit more and treats once or twice a week. After his last vet appointment, I told Church (not like he understood me, but hey ya never know, right?) he was back on his diet. Well, look what I discovered the other night-à 



Now I know why he was so anxious to go into the basement. The little sneak poked a hole in his new bag of cat food. He sure loves to eat. The bag is now up on a shelf where Church can’t reach it. After the hubster taped over the hole, and I put the bag up in a safe place, Church wanted into the basement. He immediately went to the spot where his bag of food was. I laughed and said to him, “Hahaha! I discovered what you were doing, sneaking some extra food on the side. No more, buddy. You’re on a diet.” He looked at me with his big, round green eyes like, “Hey, what did you do with it?” Sorry buddy, but if it comes down to having your vet stick her finger up your ass to clean out your anal glands or putting you on a diet . . . um, you’re going on a diet for sure. Just sayin'.  

Wednesday, September 27, 2017

Blog Tour! Catching Mr. Right by #Author Misti Murphy



Title: Catching Mr. Right 
Author: Misti Murphy
Genre: Romance 







Finding Mister Right is easy. 
It’s catching him that’s hard. 
Not that I’ve ever been the girl who lets a little rejection get me down. 
Or stop me from achieving my goals. 

When Mister Right proves difficult to land, I need a little help. 
Casper Morgan isn’t the ideal candidate. 
Actually, he’s rude and grumpy and mean. 
He’s also my boss for the summer. 
And he’s hiding some pretty big secrets behind the zip of his pants. 
Oh, and did I mention this whole fake dating plan was his idea? 

Now we’re pretending to be together. 
Sometimes it’s hard to remember we’re not. 
Especially when he kisses me like he does. 
And touches me as though I belong to him. 
Maybe the right guy isn’t the one you plan on.
It’s the one you never saw coming.













Misti Murphy is a sadistic b*tch who loves to emotionally torture fictional people. If she did that in real life she’d probably end up in prison or a psych ward so she prefers to create dirty talking alphas and the sexually frustrated women who fall into their beds. And if someone needs to be smacked upside the head before f*cking turns to love then that makes her very happy indeed. 
She’s a huge believer in flaws making us human, and that not everyone likes bacon. She’s also addicted to chocolate and scared of the effects of the coming shortage. She swears like a f*cking trooper, and thinks that graphic smuttiness should be as real in fiction as it is in real life. 
When she’s not writing she’s the perfect housewife and mother. Ha bloody ha! When she’s not writing she’s hiding in a cupboard with her kindle, scoffing chocolate, and stalking facebook.  






Tuesday, September 26, 2017

Teaser Tuesday & A #Free Book!

Teaser Tuesday!


It’s Tuesday! I feel like sharing a teaser from Dark Spirits. It’s the second book in my Beyond the Eyes trilogy. Btw, the first book (Beyond the Eyes) is FREE! The links to where to grab your free copy are at the end of this teaser.
Happy Reading!
Dark Spirits
Genre: YA Paranormal Romance Fantasy

Excerpt:
A tall pale-haired man who looked of Nordic descent seemed to materialize between the trees. The backdrop of the pitch black forest behind him gave the illusion of him being an imposing force not to be reckoned with, like a Viking god straight from Valhalla.
 He stood there and fixed his ice blue eyes on mine. For a second they glowed like flames peering out of a bone-white skull. There was no doubt in my mind. It was Volac. Brayden stepped away. I bowed my head and slowly shook it, the corner of my mouth pulled down in disgust. What a yellow-bellied, worthless piece-of-shit. If Tree were here, he wouldn’t have tucked tailed and left my side. Then something sparked my intuition, some kind of connection between Brayden and Anwar. But I lost it when Volac’s feet shifted. I drew myself up, my survival instincts kicking in. My brain automatically assessed Volac’s vulnerable areas: his windpipe. I could grab it around his visible Adam’s apple and squeeze the larynx, and then strike a blow across it with the edge of my hand. His knees and chest were another vulnerable areas. Hell, his whole damned body was an open season.
“You didn’t think I’d come here without reinforcements?” he said, his thin lips twisting into a smirk. He stuck his index fingers in his mouth and blew a high-pitched whistle.
I knew my mind was the primary weapon in a combat situation. So I stood there in a perfectly balanced stance, prepared to utilize all my strength.
I listened.
In the far distance were heavy footfalls, behind and in front of me, deep in the forest.  Ameerah was calling my name, fear and desperation strangling her voice. As they gained on us, the ringing in my ears elevated to a squeal.
I looked around, assessing the situation.
Like a ghostly apparition, Anwar disappeared, and I found myself questioning whether I had actually seen him or not. Brayden stood on the other side of the truck in a fighting position, like a boxer in a ring, minus the raised fists, his head jerking about.
Then they emerged, shadows growing pulses beneath the pale moonlight. All six of them were males, and the seventh was Ameerah. Three of them surfaced from the forest in front of me with Ameerah. The other three stepped out on Brayden’s side.
Volac made an abrupt whistling sound and raised his palm, halting them. He motioned to the ones behind him to join his side. They moved at his command and stopped when they reached him. Standing shoulder to shoulder, they formed a line in front of me. The brown-haired man at the end with the wind tunneled hairdo and Polo shirt had Ameerah’s hands behind her back in his tight grip. When my eyes connected with hers, she mouthed, “I’m sorry.” At this point, I didn’t know what to think.
Did she set us up? I wondered.
I could feel Volac’s eyes pressing on my face and met them with a defiance a caged tiger would have toward his captor.
“Thanks to Ameerah,” he said as if he were presenting her the medal of valor, “we were able to follow her and observe your little rendezvous from afar. Of cour–”
“I didn’t know, Nathan. I swear.” Ameerah shook her head, her voice pleading.
Although Volac’s stone face twisted in agitation from her interruption, he nodded in agreement. “She didn’t know,” he confirmed, then rubbed his chin, contemplating something. I shot a glance at Ameerah. She was looking at the man behind her. She jerked her arms back, trying to break free from his grasp, cursing at him in Latin in a high whisper. “But I had a feeling she was up to no good when she’d sought me out, only to pluck answers from me about Paige.” He laid a hand on his heart and feigned devastation. “I was quite crushed when her arrival on my doorstep was for purely selfish reasons. I thought I meant more to her than an immortal girl who has the ability to imprison our kind.
             “And then riding on my suspicion regarding the nature of Ameerah’s visit, I sent my bloodhounds and myself out tonight to follow her trail.” He paused and leaned over to frown at Ameerah. “I’m disappointed in you, consorting with the enemy.”
“You’re wrong about them,” Ameerah said. “They’re more against what the ‘old one’ plans to do than you are.”
“I doubt it. Stupid girl.” He turned to me, his eyes boring into mine. I could have easily ripped his throat out right then, but something in me told me to wait. However, if he came any closer, I knew I would because nobody was going to get near Paige. “We didn’t hear what was said between you three. However, we did observe some sort of ritual you performed.” He placed his palms together and slowly rotated his hands. “And interestingly enough, it snatched consciousness away from Paige. So you might have done me a favor because she may never return.”
“What?!” Brayden said, appalled. “Is that what happened to her?” He had an accusing pissed off tone to his voice aimed directly at me, wordlessly saying this would have never happened if she’d been with him.
A blaze of anger roared through me. He didn’t realize what Volac was doing, yet he implied Paige would be safer with him! I could feel the heat in my ears and hear the uncomfortable shifting of the group in front of me. I looked at each one individually, and I don’t know what they saw in my eyes, but they all flinched, and their hearts were racing.
“He didn’t know that would happen to her,” Ameerah spat at Brayden, coming to my defense. “And Paige wanted to.”
“Bullshit!” Brayden hollered. “If he wasn’t so obsessed with getting revenge on Aosoth, he would have paid more attention to Paige and figured out what she can and can’t do”–I whipped my head around, just in time to see him jerk a finger at me– “this would have never happened!”
Chaos erupted.
Brayden was now in my face, and Volac was laughing. I shoved Brayden aside and right when I lunged for Volac’s throat, Anwar appeared behind him and dragged him away from me. I didn’t have time to wonder what Anwar was doing because the dark spirits on the other side of the truck were trying to get inside it. One of them had hold of the door handle, trying to force it open. He looked like a vampire wannabe with jet black hair and a white painted face. Another one was standing on the hood, aiming his biker boot at the windshield directly in front of Paige. An image of it breaking, spraying shards of glass on her, infuriated me. I snatched his raised foot and twisted it. He howled when the bones snapped and fell on his back, his head smacking the hood with a loud thunk.
Agonizing wails echoed around me. At the edge of my vision, I saw Brayden casting the spirit out of the preppy-looking male who had Ameerah. The man on the hood kept gasping for air. I elbowed him in the gut. He raised his shoulders off the hood in response, half-sitting. His arm flung across his stomach and he curled to his side. I flipped him on his back and placed my palm on his forehead and said a quick incantation. He didn’t have enough air in his lungs to scream, and I could hear his heart sputtering. This soulless human was dying, and all I could think about in those few seconds was good, one less vessel to occupy. I felt the dark spirit leave, and the human died. I leaped on the hood, picked him up, and dropped him on the male still trying to get inside the truck.
“Brayden, behind you!” Anwar yelled.
I didn’t bother looking because I was on a mission to send those dark spirits to an agonizing hell similar to Aosoth’s. I flipped into the air and landed beside the man struggling to push the human off him. I lifted the body by the head and torso and tossed it into the forest. It smashed against a tree and fell to the ground in a heap.
“No. Please,” he begged, scrambling to his knees.
 I felt movement behind me. My arm flicked out, my hand encircling a scrawny neck. I swung my arm back around with a handful of throat. I came face to face with a lanky teenager with dark helmet hair. His brown eyes were wide with panic. He grasped at my fingers in a desperate attempt to release my death grip. Slowly, I squeezed his larynx, and then he made the foolhardy mistake of trying to kick me in the groin. I blocked his kick with my knee and crushed his windpipe with a quick pinch of my fingers. Without thought, I tossed him in the forest as well.
Flick.
A sharp, searing pain ripped up my shin. I looked down at the idiot still on his knees, but now he held a switchblade. In one swift move, I kicked it out of his hand, grabbed him by his black T-shirt and slammed him on the ground.
“Please. Please. No . . .  I’m sorry.”
I smacked my palm on his forehead, feeling the blood sticking to my jeans. Someone was screaming. Ameerah?
“I’ll tell you about the ‘old one.’ Just don’t cast me out.” He started to weep.
I paused. “What about the ‘old one’?”
“He’s in town, but he’s waiting.”
I leaned closer to him, my face inches from his. I could smell the fear and marijuana leaking out of his pores–a salty-sweet, pungent skunk smell. “Waiting for what?”
He sucked in a wet sob. “I . . . I. . . . don’t know.”
On that note, I began chanting. He writhed under my grip, screeching until his spirit vacated the body. In the same manner as the other two, I tossed him near their bodies. I noticed Brayden had Ameerah pinned to a tree with his hand clamped around her neck. He raised his other hand. I could hear Ameerah whimpering. In a flash, I hurled Brayden from her. He flew across the road into a ditch.
“Get out of here,” I said to Ameerah.
Her hand fluttered to her throat, her violet eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry. I don’t know when I’ll see you two again.”
“I understand,” I said, watching Brayden roll onto his side and rise to his feet. “But you need to get out of here.” Without another word, she turned and disappeared into the trees.
“You mother–” Brayden took off, heading straight for me, a tracer streaking across the street.
“Stop, Brayden!” Anwar commanded. Out of nowhere, he appeared in front of me, right when I was about to get some sweet justice. To my surprise, Brayden stopped. “Go home.”
The red in Brayden’s face deepened, and his hands balled into fists. He glanced at the truck. “What about Paige?”
Anwar laid his hands on Brayden’s shoulders. “Nathaniel will take care of Paige.”
“What?” Brayden seethed through gritted teeth, the muscles in his jaw flexing.
I couldn’t see Anwar’s face, but his fingers were pinching Brayden’s shoulders. Brayden closed his eyes, his chest heaving.
“Go home,” Anwar told him again. Brayden opened his eyes and stared at Anwar for a long moment. Something silent was spoken between them because Brayden’s green eyes yielded to whatever it was. And then he took off down the road, vanishing.


Get the first book  (Beyond the Eyes) FREE  hereà




Grab your Dark Spirits copy hereà



Cheers!


Sunday, September 24, 2017

Release Blitz! One Call Away by Author Emily Goodwin


Title: One Call Away 
Author: Emily Goodwin 
Genre: Romance 







Chase Henson doesn't play by the rules. He doesn't let himself get attached, doesn't stay in one place long enough to call anywhere home. So when he returns to the small town of Summer Hill for the first time in years, the last thing he expects to find is a reason to stay.

Sierra Belmont is lost. Devastated after a sudden tragedy that left her heart broken in a million pieces, Sierra is just barely getting by. Burying herself in work at Summer Hill's only bookstore, all she wants to do is make it through another day.

And then Chase walks through the doors of The Book Bag, claiming he's just there to buy a book. Rumors that he's dangerous fly through the town, but Sierra isn't afraid of him. He might be the last person she should be with, but he's the only one who understands the depth of her pain. For the first time, Chase stands still, fighting the desperation to mend Sierra's broken heart.

Always running, the past has never had a chance to catch up to Chase. But there's a first time for everything.


**ONE CALL AWAY is a full-length, standalone romance novel**











Emily Goodwin is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of over a dozen of romantic titles. Emily writes the kind of books she likes to read, and is a sucker for a swoon-worthy bad boy and happily ever afters.

She lives in the midwest with her husband and two daughters. When she’s not writing, you can find her riding her horses, hiking, reading, or drinking wine with friends.









Thursday, September 21, 2017

Cover Reveal! Redemption by #Author Michelle Horst


Title: Redemption
Author: Michelle Horst
Series: Men Of Honor #2, 
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Cover Designer RBA Designs







She barged her way into my life and demanded that I be her friend. That was the best day of my life. The day Quinn took one look at my sorry ass, and decided I needed her.

She was right. I can’t live a day without her smile. She’s my heart and soul. I’ve become her shadow, always threatening any guy that dares to even look at her.

I’ve fallen for my best friend.  I wish I’d told her sooner how much I love her.

I was only five minutes late. That’s all it took for him to take her.
He ripped the sun right out of my life.

In the darkest of nights, even your shadow leaves you. Those are the only words she’s spoken to me since that night. They haunt me, a constant echo in the emptiness left behind.  
Because of him, she now fears me. But I’ll be patient with her.
I’ll get my sunshine back once I’ve dealt with him.
He’s had a taste of her and just like me, he’s addicted.
He’ll come for her again and when he does, I’m going to make him suffer.

I’m a Jackson. I’ve learned from the best. He’s a dead man walking and I’m the Grim Reaper.






Michelle Horst is a Bestselling Romance Author who likes her books hot, dirty, and with a touch of darkness. She loves an alpha hero who is not scared to fight for his woman.  

Want to be up to date with what’s happening in Michelle’s world? Sign up to receive the latest news on her alpha hero releases, sales, and great giveaways → http://eepurl.com/cUXM_P













Wednesday, September 20, 2017

Release Blitz! Catching Mr. Right by #Author Misti Murphy










Title: Catching Mr. Right 



Author: Misti Murphy



Genre: Romance 




























Finding Mister Right is easy. 
It’s catching him that’s hard. 
Not that I’ve ever been the girl who lets a little rejection get me down. 
Or stop me from achieving my goals. 

When Mister Right proves difficult to land, I need a little help. 
Casper Morgan isn’t the ideal candidate. 
Actually, he’s rude and grumpy and mean. 
He’s also my boss for the summer. 
And he’s hiding some pretty big secrets behind the zip of his pants. 
Oh, and did I mention this whole fake dating plan was his idea? 

Now we’re pretending to be together. 
Sometimes it’s hard to remember we’re not. 
Especially when he kisses me like he does. 
And touches me as though I belong to him. 
Maybe the right guy isn’t the one you plan on.
It’s the one you never saw coming.















Amazon US



Amazon UK



Amazon CA



Amazon AU
















Misti Murphy is a sadistic b*tch who loves to emotionally torture fictional people. If she did that in real life she’d probably end up in prison or a psych ward so she prefers to create dirty talking alphas and the sexually frustrated women who fall into their beds. And if someone needs to be smacked upside the head before f*cking turns to love then that makes her very happy indeed. 



She’s a huge believer in flaws making us human, and that not everyone likes bacon. She’s also addicted to chocolate and scared of the effects of the coming shortage. She swears like a f*cking trooper, and thinks that graphic smuttiness should be as real in fiction as it is in real life. 



When she’s not writing she’s the perfect housewife and mother. Ha bloody ha! When she’s not writing she’s hiding in a cupboard with her kindle, scoffing chocolate, and stalking facebook.