Tuesday, April 4, 2017

Book Blast w/Giveaway: The Castle by Skye Warren



The Castle
by Skye Warren
GENRE: Contemporary Romance

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Skye will be awarding a $15 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Please visit GoddessFish.com to follow the tour, remember the more you comment better your chances on winning.

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BLURB:

Safe in the ivory tower…

Gabriel Miller swears he’ll keep me safe. Enemies lurk outside, waiting to strike. An army held back by these walls.

Except some animal instinct warns me the danger is much closer. It’s already here. Is Gabriel my protector or my enemy? Is this house a castle or a cage?

There’s nowhere for me to go, no one left for me to trust.

No escape from a past determined to capture its prize.

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Excerpt:

“Still giving orders, little virgin? Is that something you’re born with in the St. James family, or did they teach you that along with your ABCs?”

Rage tightens a knot in my stomach. “I’m not a virgin.”

“No?” he asks, lifting a hand to my face.

I stand very still as he captures my chin between his thumb and forefinger, torn between wanting to wrench away and wanting him to kiss me. How can he make me feel alive when I’ve been sleepwalking for months, years? What sick twist of fate let the hands of this man bring me pleasure?

“You made sure of that.” I mean the words to come out cold, unhurt. Instead I sound breathless and somehow inviting. The white carpet may as well be streaked with red. We’re both back in his bedroom, both flushed and sated and ripped to shreds from what he’s just done.

He lifts my face, almost tender. “I put my cock into your warm little hole. Pushed right through that thin hymen to do it. It felt like fucking heaven to break you open.”

I’m a tuning fork in his hands, and the sound I make is pure arousal. “I despise you.”

“You were so wet,” he says, almost thoughtful. “But some of it was blood, wasn’t it?”

“I’m going to find a way to get my house back.”

He bends his head slightly, enough that our lips are an inch away, the words a tickle of breath against my lips. “I got off on the slide of your blood on my cock. I came that way, spilling salt into the fresh open wound.”

There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to him, no line I wouldn’t cross in this moment. My anger takes an unholy shape, rearing back with all the fury and fear of a wild horse ready to trample his enemy. “And God help me, I’m going to ruin you. The way you did my father. I’m going to break you.”

He nudges my chin higher, exposing the vulnerable line of my throat. His mouth drops to the tender skin, a whisper of a kiss. “Do you want to make me bleed, little virgin?”

The violence takes me by surprise. My swing is wild, aimed straight for his face with all my strength. He catches my wrist midmotion, the abrupt stop shooting pain down my arm. We’re frozen that way, him holding me, breathing each other’s air.

“Don’t call me that,” I say between clenched teeth.

“Little virgin.”

“I’m not. You saw the proof of it. You paid a million dollars for it.”

“Actually,” he says, voice deceptively mild. “I paid a million dollars to use you for a month. And as that month isn’t over yet, I think I’d like to collect.”

Shock courses through me, singeing every angry intention. “No.”

“And as for your virginity, there are a hundred ways you haven’t been taken. A thousand ways you haven’t been fucked. A million dollars left to earn.”

“That money’s mine. You sent me away.”

“And yet,” he says, echoing his earlier words, “here you fucking are. This is what you wanted. This is what you came for. Did you really think you’d see me and walk away without my come inside you?”

My gasp sounds virginal even to myself. “Of course I did.”

He uses the hold on my wrist to drag me closer, off balance, almost falling into him. His warmth surrounds me, along with a musk my body remembers. Alarm bells ring more than they did this morning. A strange man could hurt me, but Gabriel—he’s worse. My own kryptonite.

“Here’s the thing about fucking a virgin,” he whispers, breath a caress on my temple. “You gave me your pretty little hymen, the small spill of blood. The first feel of those walls squeezing my cock. And there’s no way to get it back, not ever. No matter who else you fuck. Even if you settle down with some prep-school fucker and let him climb on top of you every single night, I’ll always be your first. You will always be my little virgin.”

The show of possession does something strange to me. It should be offensive. It’s meant to be offensive, but the humiliation turns liquid and hot inside my body. And the worst part is, I can’t even deny the truth. He left an imprint inside me. I can still remember the stretch of him, the burn. The very shape of that heavy thickness I can feel against my stomach now. And anyone who comes after him, they’ll never quite fill the space he carved inside of me.

“That’s right,” he murmurs, soothing now that I’ve acquiesced. “I’ve got you.”

“No, we can’t—”

He releases my wrist only to run a finger along my cheek. “So young. You look so young like this.”

“It’s the makeup,” I say with difficulty. And the hair. And the clothes. In a thousand ways I was different before, the society princess. What am I now? Almost homeless. Definitely scared.

His eyes gentle, more brown than they’ve been before. “You didn’t think you were getting fucked today. You got dressed and took the bus and came up the elevator having no idea.”

“Don’t feel sorry for me.”

A slight smile. “Not enough to stop. Take off those clothes. Let’s see what you look like when you’re just a sweet, innocent college girl and not the toy I bought at auction.”

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AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Skye Warren is the New York Times bestselling author of contemporary romance such as the Chicago Underground series. Her books have been featured in Jezebel, Buzzfeed, USA Today Happily Ever After, Glamour, and Elle Magazine. She makes her home in Texas with her loving family, two sweet dogs, and one evil cat.

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Virtual Book Tour w/Giveaway: Cloak & Mirrors by P.M. Terrell



Cloak and Mirrors
by P.M. Terrell
GENRE: Suspense

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P.M. Terrell will be awarding Celtic necklace containing the Tree of Life. USA only to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Please visit GoddessFish.com to follow the tour, remember the more you comment better your chances on winning.

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BLURB:

CIA operatives Vicki Boyd and Dylan Maguire are back in the 6th book of the award-winning Black Swamp Mysteries Series. Vicki and Dylan journey to Ireland for their honeymoon and while they are there, they agree to pick up a package from a Russian spy containing plans for Russia's latest stealth technology. But when the Russian decides to defect, they find themselves trying to get him safely out of the country. They also discover the Kremlin has uncovered their identities and now Vicki and Dylan flee across the island. With breathtaking descriptions of Ireland's rugged coast and the Northern Lights, romance and suspense come together again.

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Excerpt:

The winds whistled and swirled in the frosty night like a chorus of apparitions dancing and bobbing, leaving soft whispers against Dylan’s ear, enticing, cajoling, flirtatious and deadly. Ah, but they could drive a man insane on a night like this, he thought, pulling his collar tighter about his ears. He wore an Irish tweed cap and still the winds licked at his hair like fingers running through it, soothing, insistent and treacherous.

The horse’s mane was grasped as well by the same invisible force, the long strands stretched as though they were being combed by an otherworldly creature that would not let go. They were nervous tonight and he imagined given their heads, they would turn about and leave the eerie foothills of the Blue Stack Mountains. He kept a firm hold on Dougal’s reigns as the horse snorted, the sound unnaturally shrill.

He could read a horse like he could read a man’s face, and tonight it didn’t bode well. Dougal’s ears were stiff and pitched forward, a sign of unease for sure, and every now and again they twitched and trembled as his haunches dipped low. Dylan peered through the shadows at the other horses, both as spirited as his; and yet their tails were clamped low, their voices constant.

In contrast, the men were hushed as they had been since leaving the manor house, the silence broken only intermittently as Jack announced a change in direction or a distant landmark for which he was aiming. Even then, his statements were terse as if he was reluctant to speak in the eerie terrain.

The ground beneath the horses’ hooves was uneven and unpredictable. As the night sky began to brighten with the first vestiges of the aurora borealis, he began to see why their progress had slowed since entering the mountain range; the horses had to pick their way around craggy rocks, the tall grasses obscuring whether the land was firm or soft until their hooves either landed on solid ground or they felt the disconcerting descent into boggy earth.

He inched the horse forward until it was nearly even with Jack. He rode a silver mare with a jet black mane and tail, a beautiful animal to be sure and under the stars her coat was mesmerizing as if it was aglow.

Are you certain this is the way to Innisbarracar?” Dylan asked.

Jack glanced in Alexei’s direction before shifting his attention to Dylan. “You said you needed weapons, did you not?”

Aye.”

Then we’d be taking a bit of a diversion.” He pointed at the mountain’s highest peak.

Innisbarracar would be on the other side through the pass. We’ll be headin’ in that direction—” he pointed slightly to the left of the mountain “—where we’ll be arming ourselves first.”

Ah.”

They rode for a few minutes in silence before Dylan asked, “And what type of weapons would you be havin’ there?”

Jack looked at him out of the corner of his eye. “Whatever kind you’d be needin’.”

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Q & A with P.M. Terrell

What inspires you?

I find inspiration everywhere. I will see people with various personality traits or physical features that inevitably wind up in one of my characters. I get plot ideas through news sources, the Internet, and even bits and pieces of conversation. Landscapes often inspire me and I find my biggest inspiration comes from visiting my ancestral home in County Tyrone, Northern Ireland. There is something so magical and mystical about Ireland. I have always wanted to write in a little white cottage by the sea.

Who are some of your favorite authors that you feel were influential in your work?

Daphne du Maurier has definitely influenced my writing; I love the way she describes her scenes and years after reading one of her books, I can still picture the landscape as though I was actually there—such as the moors in Jamaica Inn or the cove in Rebecca.

Richard Matheson inspired me with What Dreams May Come; he taught me how to end chapters with a cliffhanger and keep readers turning those pages.

Truman Capote taught me how to write nonfiction like a work of fictional suspense by reading In Cold Blood.

And Jon Krakauer and Sebastian Junger have taught me how to take ordinary people and place them into extraordinary circumstances, as well as how to effectively use weather as an adversary in their books Into Thin Air (Krakauer) and The Perfect Storm (Junger).

What do your plans for future projects include?

To be honest, the constant and bizarre dramas of the 2016 Presidential election and the Trump presidency have created a dilemma for suspense authors because how can a fictionalized political thriller compete with what is happening in our world today? In polling my readers, I have discovered that people often read fiction to escape. I have always enjoyed reading about Elizabethan England, the Celts or the Vikings so I have turned my attention to a new series that follows the lives of my ancestors beginning in 1608 Scotland. If you think politics today is divisive, back then it often ended in murder. Crosses and double-crosses, spies, romance, sword fighting, adventure and castle intrigue will make for a very exciting series.

Do you ever get writer’s Block? Any tips on how to get through the dreaded writer’s block?

Years ago when I was writing the story of my ancestor, Mary Neely, who had been captured by Shawnee warriors, I would go to bed at night asking her where she went, what she did, how she felt, and I found that I would dream about her all night. Since then I have taught myself to dream each chapter before it is written so as a result, I never experience writer’s block. However, sometimes I need to write a scene such as a romantic encounter and I admit I pull out the romance novels and movies for inspiration!

Have you ever had one character you wanted to go one way with but after the book was done the character was totally different?

Yes. Dylan Maguire was first introduced in Vicki’s Key and he was only supposed to appear in that one book. His character was a lot more sinister but when the editors read the first draft, they had become mesmerized by him and they told me it was non-negotiable: he had to remain in the entire series. I rewrote some of his scenes to make him less threatening and more fun-loving and I am really happy I did. He has become the most popular character in the Black Swamp Mysteries Series, and I must admit to being teary-eyed when I wrote his wedding to Vicki Boyd in Cloak and Mirrors!

Thank you for having me here today!

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AUTHOR Bio and Links:

p.m.terrell is the pen name for Patricia McClelland Terrell, the award-winning, internationally acclaimed author of more than 20 books in several genres, including suspense, historical and non-fiction. Prior to becoming a writer, she owned two computer companies in the Washington, DC with a specialty in combatting computer crime. Her clients included the CIA, Secret Service and Department of Defense. Technology is often woven through her suspense thrillers. Terrell is of Irish descent, and Ireland often figures prominently in her books as well. She has been a full-time author since 2002 and currently travels between her home in North Carolina and Northern Ireland, the home of her ancestors. She is also the founder of Book ‘Em North Carolina’s Writers Conference and Book Fair (http://bookemnc.org) and The Novel Business (http://thenovelbusiness.com).
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