Friday, July 25, 2014

Blog Tour ~ A Groom for Christmas by Cara Marsi

When a young woman hires her hometown's former bad boy to be her pretend fiance for the holidays, she finds she can't wrap up her feelings as easily as a Christmas gift. New York jewelry designer Graceann Palmer has two days to find a fiance to bring home to Pennsylvania for the holidays so her matchmaking mama will quit fixing her up with jerks. The Falcon, a motorcycle-riding, leather-clad former high school crush, helped her out once before.
 
Maybe he'll do it again. Jake Falco, man of many mysteries, is back in town on a mission-one the people of Spirit Lake most likely won't appreciate. When Graceann presents him with her crazy scheme, it gives him something he's always wanted-a chance to get to know Graceann. It also gives him the perfect opportunity to add fuel to his project of revenge. But as Jake and Graceann grow closer, their engagement-of-convenience begins to feel like the real deal-until Jake's secrets are revealed.
 
Can a relationship that began with lies and secrets bloom like a rare Christmas rose into happily-ever-after?


A Groom for Christmas

Cara Marsi




Purchase Links

Amazon | B&N |  Kobo

Excerpt #1

 
“I have two days to find a fiancé.” Ignoring the anxiety that tightened her stomach, Graceann Palmer dipped her fork into her apple pie à la mode and slipped the tasty treat into her mouth.
 
Her friend Kate sat next to her at the counter in the quaint fifties-era Spirit Lake Diner, located just outside the small Pennsylvania town of the same name. Kate grinned. “You could advertise online: Fiancé wanted for Christmas. Good pay. Temporary position.
 
“Like I’d get a real upstanding guy that way,” Graceann said.
 
Kate shot her a sympathetic smile. “Face it. You’ll have to tell your family you lied.”
 
Bing Crosby’s I’ll Be Home for Christmas flowed from the jukebox, mocking Graceann. Her lie had caught up with her. She would come home for Christmas, minus a made-up fiancé.
 
Graceann finished her pie and pushed the plate away. “Tell my family the truth and have my mom try to fix me up with someone like the dentist she invited to spend the holidays with us last year? Boring, conceited, and he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. Yuck.”
 
The door opened, bringing in a fresh round of cold, snowy late December air. Shivering, Graceann drew her sweater closer around her.
 
“I wouldn’t mind finding that under my Christmas tree,” Kate said.
 
Graceann followed her friend’s gaze to the tall man who’d just entered the diner. Dressed all in black—black motorcycle boots, black jeans, black leather jacket—and walking with the lithe grace of a panther, he took a seat at the other end of the counter. She studied him while he studied the menu. He had classic “bad boy” written all over his features—sharp cheekbones, dark stubble on a square jaw, and midnight black hair tied into a ponytail. Long, tapered fingers held the menu.
 
Suddenly, he looked up. Clear blue eyes connected with hers. Recognition spiked through her and sent her pulse jumping like a kid on Christmas morning.
 
“The Falcon,” she whispered.
 
“What?” Kate gasped. “You’re right. It is The Falcon.”
 
His full lips tilted in a slow, sexy grin, showing even white teeth. He nodded at them before turning his attention to the waitress. After he gave his order, he didn’t look in their direction again.
 
Kate gripped Graceann’s arm, her fingers digging into Graceann’s flesh beneath the heavy sweater. “Wow. The Falcon. I heard he left town the day after his graduation from Spirit Lake High fourteen years ago and hasn’t been heard from since.”
 
“Wonder what he’s doing back here,” Graceann said. In school, she’d had a crush on The Falcon even though he was two years ahead of her. She’d never told anyone, not even Kate.
 
“He’s a little scruffy,” Kate said.
 
“Scruffy, my tush. He’s hot.”
 
Kate grabbed her arm again as Graceann lifted her coffee mug. Coffee sloshed over the sides onto the counter. Setting the mug down, Graceann gave her friend an exasperated look. “What?”
 
“I have it,” Kate said. “Your fiancé.”
 
“What are you talking about?”
 
“The Falcon. I’ll bet he’ll pretend to be your fiancé. After Zach bowed out, you said you’d be willing to pay someone. The Falcon always needed cash. Do it. Ask him.”
 
“You’re crazy. I haven’t seen him in fourteen years. He could be a serial killer for all we know.”
 
Kate shook her head. “He’s not. We would have heard.” She leaned closer. “You’ll be at your grandmother’s with the whole family. You’ll be safe. Your grandmother is old-fashioned. She’ll put you in separate rooms. It’s not like he’s a total stranger. Bring him to meet the family, pretend you’re wildly in love. Your mom will quit trying to fix you up. After the holidays you won’t ever have to see him again. Once you’re back in New York, you can tell your family you broke the engagement. That’s what you planned to do with Zach.”
 
Graceann put a hand up. “This is the craziest idea you’ve ever had, and you’ve had plenty. I can’t ask this guy to go along with my scheme. I’ll have to resign myself to fending off another loser my mom pushes at me. She means well, but she won’t accept that I’m not interested in marriage. After what Michael did, my whole family feels sorry for me. I don’t want or need their pity.”
 
“Michael was a jerk. He didn’t deserve you. Listen to me, Graceann. Ask. The. Falcon. What could it hurt to at least ask?”
 
“His name is Jake, and I’ll think about it.”
 
“Don’t wait too long. He’ll be out of here and you’ll have missed your chance.”
 
Graceann sipped her coffee and stole glances at Jake Falco. Maybe Kate was right. Jake had always been nice to her and had even come to her aid once when the mean girls were harassing her. He might help her out now. At her grandmother’s, they’d be surrounded by family. She wouldn’t be alone with him. Her gut feelings were usually on target, so she’d learned to listen. She’d ignored her instincts with Michael and look how that had turned out. Something was telling her to go ahead and take a chance on Jake.
 
“I’ll do it.” She stood before she lost her nerve.
 

Teaser

Next to him, Graceann let out a sigh. “Here we are. Curtain time.”
 
He unfastened his seatbelt and leaned toward her. “Might as well start now.” Framing her face between his hands, he touched his lips to hers. At first she stiffened, but he continued to press his lips against hers, drinking in her sweetness. Her lips softened and she let out a low moan. Surprised and pleased at her reaction, he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into her willing mouth. She slid her hands up his chest and pressed closer.
 
Suppressing a groan, he fought the desire to skim his hands over her ribcage to her chest. For a petite woman, she had magnificent breasts. 
 
The sound of voices cut through his sensual haze. He reluctantly drew away. Graceann watched him with wonder in her incredible eyes. Her breathing was labored. He resisted a smile. This gig might be lots more interesting than he’d hoped.
 
“That was for practice, right?” She rubbed a finger over her lips and lowered her voice. “You really know how to play a part.”
 
“You didn’t like it?”
 
Her face pinked. “It doesn’t matter what I like. This is a business deal.”
 
“So you keep reminding me.” He looked toward the steps where a group of people huddled watching them. “Your family?”
 
She looked over and groaned. “Do you think they saw us?”
 
“I’m sure they did. You stay there and I’ll come around and open your door.”
 
“I’m capable of opening my own door.”
 
He touched the tip of her nose. “But we want to make a good impression, especially on your grandmother.”
 
“Then maybe we’d better sit here for a little while,” she said with a pointed glance at his lap.
He grinned. “See what you do to me?”

About Cara Marsi

 

Cara Marsi, an award-winning author and self-proclaimed TV junkie, is a former corporate drone and cubicle dweller. Freed of her fabric-covered cage, she can now indulge her love of all things romance. She craves books with happy endings and loves to write about independent heroines and the strong heroes who love them. And she loves to put her characters in dangerous situations or situations merely dangerous to their hearts and watch them fight for the happy endings they deserve.
 
An eclectic author, Cara is published in romantic suspense, paranormal romance, and contemporary romance. She’s also published numerous short romance stories in national women’s magazines and online. When not traveling or dreaming of traveling, Cara and her husband live on the East Coast in a house ruled by their fat black diva of a cat named Killer.

Contact Cara

Giveaway

 

Monday, July 21, 2014

Blog Tour ~ Weeping Angels by Cristy Rey

Four years ago, Frankie Rios walked away from her best friend and big sister, Iris. To Frankie, Iris died the day that she last rejected Frankie’s attempts at getting Iris alcohol and drug treatment. Rather than accept grief for her beloved sister’s loss, Frankie turned to her music. A renowned cellist, Frankie has managed to ignore the pain and suffering of losing the person she loved most in this world. With Iris out of her mind and out of her life, Frankie was able to move on…or so she thought. Until Iris really died.
 
Topher went to war in 2001 only to return two years later damaged and broken. Unable to reconcile the war vet with the boy he used to be, Topher gave up on life. When Iris Rios, his long-lost childhood best friend, dies from liver failure at thirty-two years-old, Topher is forced to confront his past. He must decide whether he deserves to heal. He must decide whether he will take that first step and then take another until he can recover what he lost: himself.
 
Weeping Angels is a story of grief carried and grief ignored. It’s about learning to love and moving on. Mourning someone once is hard enough, but mourning someone twice is unimaginably harder.
 

Weeping Angels

Cristy Rey



Genre: Women’s fiction, romance

Release date: June 27, 2014

Purchase Links

Excerpt #1

A woman hurls herself into the parking lot without even checking to see if a car is coming. Long blonde hair flies like a cape and she moves as though propelled by a rocket. Black, slinky heels flick off her feet, smacking into the asphalt with every rapid step. The scarf wrapped around her neck, despite this god-forsaken humidity, flaps over her shoulder. Any other day, I might have tried to stop her. If not, I might have fallen to the ground and covered my head with my hands, brought back to Afghanistan by some misapprehending synapse fire. But not tonight. Tonight, I merely stand by and watch her go.
 
She stops abruptly at the edge of the parking lot and just stands there. Her back to us, she drops her arms to her sides and her shoulders slump. I’m not sure what I’m looking at, but whatever it is unfurls as I watch. A woman like that doesn’t need to be crying at the end of the parking lot alone, and we’re watching like a couple of jackals who are just man enough to smoke outside a funeral, but not man enough to rescue her from herself. I’m not sure what it is about her, but I can’t stop staring, so I don’t even try.
 
I suck on my cigarette, taking the longest pull I can to give myself time to keep from engaging in conversation, when the woman slams her palms to her thighs. If she were any closer or if there was any less traffic on the highway, we might have heard the smacking sound echoing in the air. Even without sound, I feel it. A sonic wave crashes into my chest. My heart stops beating for a second in its wake.
 
Through a stream of white smoke, I jut my chin to the woman.
 
”Who’s that?” I ask Jose. 
                   
“That’s Frances.” He’s curt, and the sharpness when he says her name makes it sound like an offense. “I thought you knew her,” he adds, raising an eyebrow skeptically.
 
There’s a silence between us as we keep our eyes trained on Frankie. For the life of me, I would have never known it was her had he not just told me. I wonder now why no one makes his or her way toward her. If there’s a husband or a boyfriend standing about inside, someone needs to tell him that she’s out there alone, grieving.
 
“Frankie loved Iris. She’s probably taking this hard.”
 
As soon as the last word has fallen from my lips, Jose chuckles humorlessly and again my eyebrows furrow. I can feel the anger lining my forehead. Jose brings the cigarette to his lips and smoke pours from his nostrils as he inhales and exhales simultaneously like a fuming dragon. He shakes his head as his gaze wanders back to Frankie.
 
“Frankie loved Iris, that’s true, but Frankie also disappeared and refused to come when Iris got sick.”
 
“I don’t believe you.”
 
Shock slaps across Jose’s face when I declare him a liar. There is absolutely no way I can know if what Jose said is true or not.
 
An ephemeral summer breeze catches her hair. When it passes, she combs her fingers through her hair and twists it into a knot that she promptly releases. Even though she’s far away, I make out the shaking of her shoulders, as if she might burst.
 
I’ve never felt as intimate with Frankie as I do right now. Sharing in her private, raw space is wrong. I want is to throw a curtain between her and the rest of the world. I want to put my body between Frankie and all the smokers, spread my arms, puff my chest, and yell out, “There’s nothing to see here! Move along!”like some cop directing rubberneckers forward in traffic.
 
I take my first step off the curb so that I can go to her and do I don’t know what, when she turns around and hugs herself so tightly you’d think it was freezing, when it’s actually a humid ninety degrees Fahrenheit. Her head tilts forward and her blonde bangs sway, falling over her eyes.
 
She starts walking, slumped and dejected, in my direction. If a car whizzed by her, she might look up, but given by the way she ejected herself from the building, I’m not fully convinced she doesn’t have a death wish. So I do the only thing I can think of, I finish taking that first step and then take another.
 
 

Dreamcast


Excerpt #2

What Frankie says breaks me. It breaks me. And it's not even about Iris or me; it’s about Frankie. Everything she said about Iris fills me in on years that I’ve missed. Even when I’d been standing right beside her, I was ignoring what now seems so obvious it’s blinding. Yet, for all the talk about Iris’s alcoholism and suicidal tendencies, what Frankie’s opened up about is herself.
 
I’m not even sure she notices because she’s so guarded. Never once has she reflected on what she’s said. She’s been stating facts, telling stories. That’s what she thinks, anyway. I know this like I know myself, because it’s what I do. I state facts and I tell stories, and what I’m actually doing is diverting attention from what’s going on inside.
 
Frankie’s all Iris this, Iris that, but what I hear is: I can’t live with myself because Iris was never happy and I couldn’t save her. It’s what I hear inside myself every minute of every day, and my heart breaks for Frankie and for me. What I do next comes so naturally that it scares the living shit out of me. I don’t let her leave. I hold her as close as I can because what I want is for her to be inside of me the way she’s let me be inside of her.
 
In this space and time, Frankie and I are one person. I’m angry with her. I’m aggressive about it, maybe even hurting her, but I reason that it can’t be any worse than how she’s been hurting herself by balling this all up for decades.
 
As much as I need her to be close, I want to push her away. I want her to leave and never come back. I want Frankie to take flight tomorrow morning, and I want to be the one to deliver her to the airport because what I’m feeling is something that I’m not ready to deal with. I tell myself to let her stay here, to give her this space from death that she needs. I’m surer now more than ever that we have an unbreakable bond, but I don’t want it.
 
We have right now and I need it right now, but I can’t want to have it tomorrow. I can’t want to have it ever again. It’s like being with yourself all the time, but only with the ugliest parts of you. It’s looking at all the broken pieces of your psyche and being forced to confront them.
 
That’s what Frankie is to me. That’s what she’s been to me all day if I cop to it. Maybe it was like that last night when I went out after her in the parking lot and walked her back to the service. Maybe it’s why I couldn’t believe that she could be out there alone with no one to hide her sadness from the world. I’m making up for it today, though. Right now, I’m making up for leaving her naked and on a slab for the world to pick apart. The more I hold her, the more I fear that I’ll never be able to let her go, but I keep doing it because she’s something worth saving and, if she can be saved, then maybe I can be, too.
 


Ten Fun Facts about Cristy Rey

1. I am a librarian.
 
2. For the holidays last year, I knit a Cthulhu scarflette for my good friend, Dre.
 
3. I have harvested over 100 mangoes from the tree in my yard in the last three weeks. (Please, no more mangoes!) I don’t even like mangoes.
 
4. My parents are Cuban.
 
5. I was a vegetarian and, later, a pescatarian for over fifteen years. Thanksgiving 2012 was the first time I had poultry, beef, or pork in half my life.
 
6. I thought of Weeping Angels as I stood at the funeral of a good friend – the real Iris – observing the mourners, looking at photos of a woman who didn’t match the one I used to know, and holding the hand of my sister, her ex-fiancée.
 
7. My dog is named after Indiana Jones and Sherlock, and my cat is named after a comic book character by Roman Dirge and a poem by Edgar Allan Poe.
 
8. I am almost 6’ tall.
 
9. I am a fangirl through and through: I read comics, I am a Whovian, I am a Sherlockian, I am committed to the Whedonverse, and I have a Fringe tattoo.
 
10. I make my own Halloween costumes.

Playlist



About Cristy Rey

 
Cristy Rey is the author of the romantic urban fantasy Incarnate series. The first book, Taking Back Sunday, and a short prequel novelette, Edge of Seventeen, are available now at online retailers. She also writes and publishes unconventional romantic women’s fiction. Her first standalone, Weeping Angels, is available now, and her second, Heart Grow Fonder, will be out in winter 2014/2015.
 
Cristy lives in Miami, FL where she is a reader and writer most of the time, and a knitter much less of the time than she was six months before she took up writing again. She writes the books that she likes to read. She describes her writing style as riot grrrl Jane Austen sprinkled with a little magic. There’s always a killer soundtrack running in the background of her novels – all you need to do is turn to the playlist to know what’s up.

Contact Cristy


A few of Cristy's other novels







Wednesday, July 9, 2014

Blog Tour ~ Falling Sky by Lisa Swallow


Book title: Falling Sky (Blue Phoenix, #2)
Author: Lisa Swallow
Genre: Contemporary romance
Release date: 10th June 2014
Cover designed by Najla Qamber Designs
Photo by Lindee Robinson Photography
Models: Madison Wayne & Chad Feyrer

This book is the second in the Blue Phoenix series, and is the continuation of the story told in Summer Sky.

The Blue Phoenix books are a series of contemporary romance novels and novellas centred on the fictional rock band Blue Phoenix.


SYNOPSIS

Skys world turned upside down when she met rock star Dylan Morgan, and exploded when she discovered his hidden past.


Four months after Sky learns Dylans devastating secret, shes trying to piece her life back together. Without an explanation from Dylan, Sky has no choice but to try and forget him.


Dragged back into the life he ran from, Dylan continues to spiral downwards as he copes with his fame the only way he knows how. Shattered by the revelation Sky knows his darker past, he forces himself to return to England and explain.


Sky and Dylan reconnect, attempting to build on the shaky foundations of their summer. But the outside world continues to conspire against them.


Taking place in the epicentre of the Blue Phoenix world, Sky and Dylans story continues amongst the chaos surrounding the band and its members.

Goodreads link

BUY LINKS

AMAZON US | AMAZON UK | AMAZON AU | AMAZON CA

 
FALLING SKY EXTRACT

The snow drifts down heavier than recently and by the time we get to my place, the dark clouds bring the winter’s night on early. Dylan parks behind my snow-covered car.
“If we’re going back to the start, I should really rear-end that car?” He looks at me sideways with a grin.
I’m busy calculating my next move and trying to anticipate his because he’s turned the engine off. The snow settles on the windscreen.
“White Christmas, do you think?” I ask.
“A few days to go yet but maybe.”
“I’d better get inside before…”
“Before what?” He turns in the seat and I stiffen. If I kiss Dylan, that’s it. Over. I’m lost again.
“Before the roads get bad for you,” I say the words but I’m unaware of anything but Dylan, the leather scent of his jacket is different to the summer Dylan, a new flavour mingling with the familiar.
“I’ll be okay,” he says, his gaze on my mouth.
I lick my dry lips and his pupils dilate, even without his hands on me, Dylan’s stirring arousal. He reaches out a hand, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear the way he always used to, his fingertips grazing my cheek with heat. Hesitantly, he moves his face closer, reminding me of the first time he kissed me. I tense as his warm breath strokes my face, dragged into the charged moment before his lips touch mine.
Dylan softly presses his mouth to mine. Then waits. I push my lips to his and our mouths move together, the hesitant kiss of those just met, not of reuniting lovers. I fall into space, past the stars into his universe, pulled to the man who has never let me go. The world outside of the heating space of the car doesn't exist, our bubble transplanted to here and now. I grip the growing curls of his hair and hold his neck and he leans across the middle of the car, pulls me close and lets go of his gentleness. Dylan holds both of my cheeks, the way he did on the beach in the rain, and kisses me like a drowning man desperate for air only I can give him.
My winter coat and his jacket prevent complete closeness and I fight the urge to slip my hands inside his jacket and feel his warmth and strength. If I do that, I know he’ll reciprocate and in a car, in the street, isn’t the right place to start.
Slowly, Dylan unwinds my fingers from his neck and shifts his head away. We breathe in sync, rapidly, reflecting the desire to reunite that we both have. But not now, not yet.
“I’ve missed you, Sky,” he whispers, cupping my cheek.
“Life lost a lot of colour without you,” I say. “And not just the tattoos.”
“Will you see me again?”
“Yes.” I softly brush his lips and draw away. Dylan’s lips part and I place a finger on them. “But I’m not ready for the intensity again this soon.”
“I get that.”
“Which is why I’m going inside alone.”
“Unfortunately, I thought you’d say that.” He kisses my forehead and sits back.
As I open the car door, Dylan catches my hand. “Tomorrow?”
There’s a hint of the old Dylan, reaching out to the old Sky he’s just resurrected. “It’s always tomorrow with you, isn’t it?” I ask, echoing the words from the summer.


 
TEASERS

 
Summer Sky (Blue Phoenix #1)  


Title: Summer Sky (Blue Phoenix, #1)

Author: Lisa Swallow

Genre: Contemporary Romance
  

    SYNOPSIS
Sky changed her life for a man once, and she has no intention of doing it again - even if he is a six-foot, tattooed rock god who makes a mean bacon sandwich.
 
Sky Davis is fed up with boyfriend Grant taking her for granted, and when she comes home to find him wearing a girl, Sky suspects the relationship is over. She takes an unscheduled holiday and leaves the life (and guy) she hates behind.
 
Rock star Dylan Morgan is struggling with fame and infamy, sick of his life being controlled by other people. Dylan cuts his hair and walks away from his role as lead singer of Blue Phoenix, leaving behind chaos and speculation.
 
Outside the English seaside town of Broadbeach, their cars and worlds collide.
 
Sky decides Dylan is an arrogant guy with too many tattoos, and Dylan is amused by the smart-mouthed girl with no idea who he is. Dylan and Sky soon discover they’ve travelled to Broadbeach for the same reason - to escape from reality and head back to a place with happy childhood memories. Losing themselves in a world where they know nothing about each other, Sky and Dylan begin a summer romance that soon heats up their rainy English summer.
 
Fantasies can’t last forever, and when reality crashes the party, Sky isn’t sure she wants to be more than his ‘summer Sky’ but Dylan doesn’t want to let her go.
 
Returning to the real world, public scrutiny isn’t their only problem. Blue Phoenix lead guitar player, Jem Jones, has a reason for wanting Sky out of Dylan’s life, and is determined to come between them. Some things won’t stay hidden, even when they’re paid to ‘go away’.
 
Summer Sky is a contemporary romance where occasionally more than the bacon sizzles. It is the first in the Blue Phoenix series.
 
The Blue Phoenix books are a series of contemporary romance novels and novellas centred on the fictional rock band Blue Phoenix.



    TEASERS

 

FAN MADE TRAILER


BUY LINKS

AMAZON US (US) | AMAZON UK (UK)




AUTHOR BIO

Lisa is an author of new adult romance and writes both paranormal and contemporary, often with a side of snark.
 
In between running a business, looking after her family and writing, Lisa sometimes finds spare time to do other things. This often involves swapping her book worlds for gaming worlds. She even leaves the house occasionally.
 
Lisa is originally from the UK but moved to Australia in 2001 and now lives in Perth in Western Australia with her husband, three children and dog.
AUTHOR LINKS

Facebook | Twitter | Website | Email | Goodreads | Mailing List

GIVEAWAY